Whispers of the Dragon
by shirebound
Summary: The Fellowship’s ten days of travel down the Anduin between Lórien and Amon Hen. Sequel to “Unlikely Comfort” and “Leaving Lórien”. NO slash, sex, or profanity
1. Transition

NOTE: This story is the sequel to "Unlikely Comfort" (Moria to Lórien) and "Leaving Lórien"; my slightly AU imagining of the Fellowship's journey down the Anduin. Chapters 1 and 2 set the stage......  
  
Reviews (as always) eagerly pounced upon! Several reviews for "Unlikely Comfort" played a major role in shaping the story.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Of course. The characters don't belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.  
_________________________________  
  
WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON  
Chapter 1 --- Transition  
  
"Sam, you're going to wear that cloak out before you've had it a day."  
  
Sam sighed with pure wonder. "It's just the most amazing cloth, Mr. Frodo. I can't figure what they made it out of." He fingered an edge of the Elven cloak once again, then touched the green and silver leaf brooch lightly, reverently. "Me, Sam Gamgee, dressed in such a thing as this. And carrying a gift from the Lady herself. Who'd a thought it?" His eyes grew misty once again, gazing past Aragorn back up the river, back toward Lórien.  
  
Frodo nodded, shifting his weight a bit as his back was beginning to pain him. He was sitting with Sam in the bow of the little boat, finding the wooden seats most uncomfortable. For most of the afternoon Aragorn had sat alone in the middle seat, paddling when there was need. The middle seat would not have allowed two Men to sit together, but one Man and a hobbit had room to sit side by side if they chose. Each boat contained the packs and traveling gear of the Company, coils of the soft Elven rope, boat covers, waterskins, and a supply of lembas and other foods packed by the Elves, some of it stowed under the small seat in the stern, some laying between the middle and rear seats. The Elves had outfitted each boat with two leaf-bladed paddles, one shortened for a hobbit's use. Or a dwarf's.  
  
Legolas and Boromir kept their boats just behind Aragorn, the current carrying them all swiftly southwards.  
  
Aragorn smiled when Sam let go of the cloak and reached his right hand out, once again, to grasp the side of the little craft. The Ranger had never seen anyone less at ease on the water, and the calm hours that had passed since leaving Lórien had done nothing to calm Sam's suspicions about this mode of travel. Sam and Gimli were the only members of the Company who could not swim at all, and neither planned to start anytime soon.  
  
Frodo moved carefully to sit down next to Aragorn. Now that the sun was starting to set he felt he could look south once again, as he suspected it had been the sun sparkling all day on the water that had been making his head ache. He pulled his cloak tightly about him in the chill air and yawned.  
  
"Frodo, did you get any sleep last night at all?"  
  
"Very little," Frodo sighed. "We talked so long and so late, afterwards I just couldn't stop thinking about.........things." He pulled his legs up, trying to find a comfortable position.  
  
"Tomorrow, pad a seat with one of the bedrolls until you get accustomed to it. Remember when we left Rivendell and hardly any of you could walk more than a few hours at a time up in those mountains?" Frodo nodded. "You'll get used to this, too." Aragorn looked up. "Even Sam may get used to it!"  
  
"Strider, there's just nothing natural about boats and that's all there is to it," Sam said vehemently. "Even Elf boats."  
  
Aragorn looked down as Frodo tried to stifle another yawn. He motioned behind them. "Lay down as best you can on the packs. Maybe you can fall asleep."  
  
Frodo was about to protest when he realized he wasn't going to be able to keep his eyes open much longer. The sleepless night, the long hike that morning, and the quiet, motionless hours on the boat were lulling him to sleep against his will. Maybe a bit of sleep would ease his headache and clear away the odd disorientation he had been feeling for most of the afternoon. He climbed back to where the packs and gear were kept, burrowed between them, curled up with his cloak wrapped about him and was asleep in minutes.  
  
After sunset Aragorn saw a good spot ahead on the western shore to camp, and he motioned to the other boats to follow him. They paddled hard and came to a level, gravelled beach surrounded by trees. Legolas and Boromir leaped out of their boats and pulled them up on shore. Gimli, Pippin, and Merry started unloading gear.  
  
Frodo was only dimly aware that they had stopped, of someone lifting him, being carried. "Aragorn," he murmured, too groggy to fully awaken.  
  
"You can sleep, Frodo, it's all right." Aragorn laid him gently down on the bedroll Sam had shaken out under a tree and covered him warmly. "Head....hurts...." Frodo whispered, before sinking back into the strangely deep sleep. The Ranger frowned and felt his forehead for fever, but found none. It seemed best to just let him sleep.  
  
A short distance away, the Company sat in the growing darkness on some blankets and fallen logs, munching bread and the dried fruit and meats the Elves had packed for them. Aragorn joined them and decided the time was ripe to set a few rules for the journey, especially for the hobbits.  
  
"We've done well today, but we have a long journey yet ahead. A fortnight, perhaps less." Aragorn unpinned the emerald and silver brooch from his tunic, looked at it for a moment, then pushed it into a pocket in his pack. "We must put away anything that might reflect the sun and attract attention." He nodded approvingly as, without a word, Merry and Pippin immediately took off the silver belts given to them by Galadriel and put them away. Boromir had removed his golden belt earlier in the day, not entirely at ease with wearing it. "Everyone must learn to use the paddles, to steer and turn at need. Anyone who doesn't know how should ask, and practice." Sam sighed, but nodded.  
  
"Remember," Aragorn said, trying not to look at Pippin. "The lembas is a valuable gift, given to sustain those of us who accompany Frodo to Mount Doom. We must use it sparingly until then."  
  
"We are no longer within protected borders. We must be vigilant, and not only at night. Sound carries far over the water. No singing, or shouting, and only quiet talking in the boats. We've tarried in Lórien longer than you may think, and the Enemy has not been idle. No fires at night unless there is great need. We must stay alert. Anyone in need of rest," and here he nodded toward Frodo's sleeping form, "Should say so. A tired sentry is a bad sentry." He looked around, gratified to see the hobbits gazing at him so seriously. They had come a long way.  
  
Legolas and Gimli volunteered to take the first watch, and the rest rolled up in their cloaks and blankets, Sam and Merry on either side of Frodo, Pippin on the other side of Merry.  
  
"Merry," Pippin whispered, "I'm cold."  
  
"Come on then," Merry said, making room between him and Frodo. Pippin nestled between them and burrowed down into his blankets. Before falling asleep, Merry reached a hand across Pippin and let it rest lightly on Frodo's shoulder; he noticed that Sam had done the same. Neither had forgotten the encounter with Gollum outside Lórien. They were taking no chances.  
  
** TBC ** 


	2. The Dragon

DISCLAIMER: Of course. The characters don't belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.  
_________________________________  
  
WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON  
Chapter 2 --- The Dragon  
  
Frodo awoke to a chill morning, roused by Sam gently calling his name. He was startled to learn that he had somehow slept through dinner and would likely have slept through breakfast as well. He rose, grateful that his head had stopped pounding. He ate ravenously of the bread, cheese, and dried fruits, and noticed that the strange feeling of disorientation from the day before had disappeared as well.  
  
"How are you doing, Frodo?" asked Aragorn, coming to sit by him. He had been talking quietly with Legolas, who joined them as well.  
  
"I feel fine. I felt so strange yesterday I thought I might be getting sick, but it seems to have passed."  
  
"That's interesting," Legolas mused.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
The Elf looked thoughtful. "Aragorn and I were just talking about how you were feeling last night. There is a transition of sorts between Lothlórien and the rest of Middle-earth. Time flows a bit differently there than here. You seem to have been affected by it, although I would not have thought a mortal would sense such a subtle thing. Perhaps the presence of the Ring has given you a sharper perception of what is for the most part unseen and unfelt by others." He smiled at Frodo and rose to help Gimli pack the remainder of their gear.  
  
The Ring. During their last days in Lórien Frodo had been able to all but forget that it hung about his neck, but as soon as they left the borders he had felt its presence strongly once again. He sighed, thinking about what Legolas had said. If the Ring was altering his perceptions, what else might it be doing to him?  
  
**********************  
  
Sam tried, he really did. After about half an hour, though, Aragorn gently uncurled Sam's rigid fingers from the paddle and conceded that maybe the hobbit could better serve as lookout than boatsman.  
  
"It's all right Sam," Frodo sat in the forward seat (now well padded), and reached to pat his friend on the knee. "You do everything else so well I suppose we had to discover *one* skill lacking!"  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Frodo," Sam said ruefully. "It's just when I lean out and push the paddle in the water, I just know I'm either going to drop it or tumble right over the side or......" He sighed. "It's just not natural, a Gamgee and water, and that's that."  
  
Frodo saw that in the boat just behind Boromir was giving Pippin a few pointers. Merry, it turned out, had needed no instruction at all.  
  
"I wonder whose boat Gandalf would have been in," Frodo mused quietly. "He might have wanted to keep an eye on Pippin and keep him from falling overboard, but I think Pip's grown up so much he wouldn't recognize him." Frodo's heart still ached for Gandalf, but the stay in Lórien had been a very healing time and at least now he could talk about him.  
  
"I suspect the Elves would have given us a fourth boat if there were still nine of us," said Aragorn. "It's amusing to picture Gandalf paddling down the river with us in that outlandish hat." He was glad to see Frodo smile. "If we *would* have been using boats, that is. What plans Gandalf had past Lórien I suppose we will never know."  
  
"I suppose not," Frodo said. He looked around. "Bilbo would have loved this. He always wanted to go everywhere and see everything. He'd be traveling still if he hadn't grown old and frail so quickly. It was hard to see him.........that way........." Frodo suddenly turned pale. "Old and frail........." he whispered to himself, aghast at a sudden thought. He looked up at Sam, wide-eyed.  
  
"Mr. Frodo, there's no point in thinking such things," Sam declared.  
  
Aragorn was looking from one hobbit to the other, completely confused. "What in the world are you two talking about?"  
  
Frodo looked at him, obviously shaken. "Aragorn, how old do you think I am?"  
  
"How old? What difference does........"  
  
"Please. I know you've been helping guard the Shire for years, you must know more about hobbits than anyone except for Gandalf. How old do I look?"  
  
Aragorn saw that Frodo was deadly serious about something, even a bit frightened. "Well, I know you're of age, Frodo. Sam and Merry seem about the same age. You look a bit younger. Pippin's much younger, no doubt about that. What is this all about?"  
  
When Frodo didn't answer, Sam said, "That's a good guess, Strider. I'm 38 and Merry is 36. Pippin is 28, he'll be a tweenager for a few years yet."  
  
"I'm 50, Aragorn," said Frodo.  
  
"You are? Frodo, you don't look any older than........."  
  
"I know," Frodo said. "It's the Ring. I've had it since I was 33, and haven't aged a day since." He sighed. "I'd gotten used to it, you know. Always looking the same. The way Bilbo always looked the same. Until he got rid of........got rid of it."  
  
"I see," Aragorn said quietly. "He didn't start to age again until he got rid of the Ring. And when you get rid of it......"  
  
"Yes," said Frodo. He looked out at the shoreline going by and said nothing more.  
  
"Fifty is hardly old and frail, Frodo," said Aragorn after a few minutes. "I passed 50 quite a few years ago, and I can still stagger about and feed myself on occasion."  
  
Frodo laughed, then grew serious again. "I just never thought of it before. I think the Ring is filling my head with all the reasons why I shouldn't destroy it. Why I should......" he absently fingered the chain about his neck.  
  
"It's like the dragon, isn't it?" asked Sam.  
  
Frodo was startled out of his reverie. "What do you mean?"  
  
"It's like that dragon from Mr. Bilbo's adventure. That Smaug. He said dragons tell you just enough truth to make you believe everything they say. You stop listening to yourself and start listening to them. You can't listen to dragons, that's all. You can't look them in the eye." He looked at Frodo intently. "You can't listen, Mr. Frodo. You just can't."  
  
"Sam," Frodo whispered. He bowed his head, his hand dropping into his lap. He took a deep breath. "Thank you."  
  
Aragorn put his arm around Sam's shoulders. "Forget about the paddling, Sam. Frodo is right --- you do everything else very well indeed."  
  
** TBC ** 


	3. Smoke and Mirrors

DISCLAIMER: Of course. The characters don't belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night. _________________________________  
  
WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON Chapter 3 --- Smoke and Mirrors  
  
The second day passed uneventfully, as did the third. By the time the fourth afternoon arrived Pippin was so restless he thought he would burst, but he made a great effort not to. He was sitting next to Boromir, and Merry was lying down between the front and middle seats thinking about nothing in particular.  
  
Pippin kicked him lightly on the leg. "How can you be comfortable down there, Merry? It's all damp."  
  
"If this is the wettest I get by the time we get to the end of this river, I'll be lucky." Merry frowned a little. "Strange sky today. Don't you think so, Boromir?"  
  
"It is a peculiar color, I'll grant you that. A storm coming up most likely."  
  
Pippin sighed, thoroughly bored. As he had no idea where they were, it felt like every day was the same and they weren't getting anywhere. "Where are we? Have we come very far yet?"  
  
Boromir started to talk when he realized that Merry was already answering Pippin's question.  
  
"To the east are the Brown Lands," he said lazily. "Not much to speak of there. To the west are some hills and Downs and then that Fangorn Forest we're supposed to stay away from."  
  
Boromir was staring at him, amazed at the hobbit's knowledge of lands he had never seen.  
  
Merry continued, "Really, Pip what *did* you do all that time in Rivendell? There were maps all over the place."  
  
"I didn't think they'd let me come with you, you know," said Pippin quietly. "Even if they let *you* go, I figured they'd bundle me up right quick and ship me home. Just didn't seem to be any need to study maps and things."  
  
Merry sat up, taken by Pippin's serious tone. "Are you still glad Elrond let you come?"  
  
"Yes," said Pippin firmly. He looked up at the darkening sky and desolate lands about them. "Well, most of the time."  
  
At the next likely spot Aragorn called a halt. A breeze coming from the east made it easy to bring the boats to the western side of the river. "We should cover the boats and make camp. I don't like the look of that sky." Everyone complied, piling some food and bedding near a scraggly tree under some extra waterproof covers the elves had provided. Frodo had just dropped his pack on the pile when he looked up the grassy slope and froze. His mouth moved soundlessly in one word, "Gandalf?" He took off at a dead run up the slope and past the trees before anyone knew what was happening.  
  
"Frodo!" Aragorn shouted, but the hobbit didn't stop. "Boromir, keep everyone here. Don't let them scatter. Sam, stay here!"  
  
Frodo had run through the scattered trees and out onto a grassy meadow before Aragorn caught up to him, grabbing him and forcing him down to the ground They lay, gasping for breath. "Frodo, where are you going? Why didn't you stop?" Aragorn shook him a little as the hobbit seemed not to hear him.  
  
"Aragorn?" Frodo looked around with a puzzled look on his face. "Where is he?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Gandalf! I saw him, Aragorn, he was waving to me. He was.." Frodo pointed at the empty meadow, starting to get scared. "He was right..."  
  
"I don't know what you saw, but we have to get back. Gandalf isn't here, Frodo. He can't be." The Ranger rose, lifting Frodo to his feet. "Come on, we'll----"  
  
At that moment there was a blinding light and thunderous crash, then another. Frodo gasped and pressed his hands over his ears. Twin lightning strikes had ignited the dry winter grass between them and the trees they had run through. Before they could react, the eastern breeze had whipped into a strong wind, helping the fire spread and blowing thick smoke directly at them. The two companions retreated helplessly before the spreading blaze. The meadow was burning in a long line in front of them, making it impossible to go around the fire.  
  
Aragorn looked around, then behind them. He kneeled down in front of the terrified hobbit. "Frodo, listen to me. I think something lured you out here. There's no safety on this side of the fire, we have to get back to camp." Frodo nodded, close to tears. Of course it couldn't have been Gandalf. What was he thinking? The smoke was already reaching them. It had all happened so fast neither could quite believe it.  
  
"Get on my back and hang on. I'm going to run through this as fast as I can. Frodo.." Aragorn paused. "If I fall or can't run for any reason, get up and go. Understand? Run back to the river."  
  
"Leave you? But.." Frodo was staring at him, his eyes wide.  
  
"Promise me, Frodo. Something strange is going on. If anything happens to me, keep going. Promise."  
  
Frodo swallowed hard. "Aragorn," he whispered, "Nothing will happen to you."  
  
The Ranger sighed and gave Frodo a quick hug. He pulled Frodo's hood up and around his face to protect him, then pulled his own hood up. "Hop on." Frodo got on his back, his arms around Aragorn's neck. Aragorn stood up. "When I say so, take a deep breath and hold it as long as you can. Ready?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Take a deep breath, now!" Aragorn plunged into the thick smoke.  
  
** TBC ** 


	4. Siren Song

NOTE: Thanks to Talking Hawk for giving me some valuable suggestions for this chapter.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Of course. The characters don't belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.  
  
_________________________________  
  
WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON  
  
Chapter 4 --- Siren Song  
  
Aragorn had planned to run as quickly as he could, but within a few feet realized he couldn't see where he was going. With his left hand he pressed an edge of his cloak up to his face to help keep out the smoke, and he groped in front of him with his right hand, unable to see more than a few feet ahead. This was no ordinary fire, but he couldn't afford to think about it yet. He heard Frodo starting to cough, and he tried to go faster. It was almost as if something was slowing him down, keeping him from getting Frodo to safety. He fought his way forward with all his strength.  
  
Frodo felt heat all around him, and he kept his eyes tightly shut. When he couldn't hold his breath any longer he took a deep gasp of smoke-filled air and started coughing. He tried to focus on holding on, holding on tight. He felt Aragorn stumble and almost fall, but he righted himself and kept going.  
  
Suddenly, to his horror, Frodo saw the firey letters from the Ring blazing in front of his closed eyes. He hadn't seen the ancient lettering since that morning in the Shire when Gandalf had thrown the Ring into his small fire in Bag End. He felt an urge to run back to the meadow, to take the Ring and run. It was almost overwhelming. No, he thought desperately, leave me alone. He shook his head and moaned, everything starting to spin around him.  
  
Aragorn felt Frodo start to lose his grip on his tunic, and just in time he grabbed the small hands and held them tightly against him. They had to be almost there...suddenly he felt hands reach out from in front of him and grab his cloak. He was pulled forward. The air grew cool and clear once again, and he stumbled to his knees into Legolas' arms at the top of the same slope Frodo had first dashed up. Somebody pulled Frodo off him and he felt the cold wind in his face. A water bottle was held to his mouth, and he gulped down as much water as he could handle.  
  
With his eyes still tightly closed, Frodo felt the cool air surround him as Aragorn sank to the ground. Someone grabbed him. Confused by the vision of the Ring still before him, he fought to get away. "You can't have it!" he yelled. "Hold him, Gimli. Frodo, it's Legolas. You're safe." Frodo felt cool hands pressed to his face and tried to focus on the soft voice. "You're safe, Frodo. Don't fight. Open your eyes, little one." The vision of the Ring slowly faded and disappeared. Frodo opened his eyes and looked around, coughing. He was on the ground, in Gimli's arms. Legolas pressed a water bottle to his mouth and he drank thirstily, the icy water soothing his throat before a fresh bout of coughing shook his small body.  
  
"Easy, Frodo." Aragorn knelt next to him. "Drink more, that's it. Don't try to talk." Frodo suddenly felt panic welling up again. "I won't listen! You can't have it!" He looked around wildly, then sagged against Gimli. "So tired," he whispered, his eyelids fluttering closed. Aragorn turned to Legolas. "We have to get him away from here." At that moment the first cold, wet drops of rain began to fall. The Elf pulled Frodo out of Gimli's lap and carried him down the slope, while Aragorn followed slowly with his hand on Gimli's shoulder for support. He felt exhausted, drained.  
  
When Sam saw Legolas returning with Frodo in his arms, he broke away from Boromir and raced to meet him. "Over here, Legolas." Sam led him to a blanket spread out under a tree. Legolas put Frodo down and sat down next to him, giving him more water and speaking in a soft, soothing voice. Sam joined them and pulled a waterproof cover around them to keep out the rain. Aragorn sank down a few feet away, and Pippin and Merry sat down next to him and huddled under covers of their own. The rest of the company did the same nearby.  
  
Merry looked up at Aragorn's soot-streaked face. "What happened up there, Strider? We heard a frightful noise and saw smoke."  
  
Frodo had stopped coughing, but he was leaning against Sam feeling weak and confused. Sam's hand, holding his, felt so wonderfully solid, so real. It helped him to focus. Frodo looked into his friend's worried eyes. "I'm all right," he whispered.  
  
Before Aragorn could answer Merry's question, Pippin looked up at him. Aragorn was rubbing his eyes, which were irritated from the smoke and heat. "Strider, can I get something out of your pack?" Aragorn immediately thought of a dozen reasons why this was a bad idea, but the question was so odd he found himself nodding. Pippin raced over to the pile of packs, unlacing Aragorn's and pulling out a length of cloth. He grabbed a full water bottle and was back underneath the cover before he got too wet. Pippin folded the cloth a few times, soaked it in the water, and held it up to Aragorn. "Here. Hold this over your eyes, it'll make them feel better."  
  
"Thank you, Pippin." Aragorn smiled at him, pressing the cold, wet cloth to his eyes with relief. "That feels better. Legolas, how is Frodo?" he asked.  
  
"He's coming out of it, whatever *it* is," the Elf said. "I don't think he quite knew where he was for a minute. By the looks of the two of you, you were fighting more than smoke up there."  
  
It had rained hard for only 15 minutes or so when the drops suddenly stopped altogether. Boromir frowned. "That was a very strange storm. At least it probably put the fire out."  
  
"You have no idea how strange it was, Boromir," said Aragorn. "Frodo, can you tell us what happened to you?"  
  
"I saw Gandalf," said Frodo with a sigh. His throat hurt, and his voice was barely above a whisper. Everyone strained to hear him. "Everything else disappeared. Aragorn says he was calling for me, but I didn't hear him. I didn't hear anything. The next thing I knew I was on the ground and Aragorn was shaking me. Gandalf was gone. Then the lightning set the meadow on fire. It was terrifying." Frodo paused to drink more water. "Aragorn knew we had to get out of there, he picked me up and ran. That's when I felt...it was like...." He tried hard to remember. "It was like something was calling me back, to run back through the fire. Someone wanted the Ring, wanted me to bring it to them. It was so strong I could hardly bear it."  
  
"There *was* something strong at work there," agreed Aragorn. "Every step I took seemed like I was stumbling through thick mud, fighting against some obstacle. I wasn't sure we would get out of that smoke."  
  
"It seemed like hours." said Frodo. "I fought so hard, got so tired. Then I heard... I thought I heard Sam's voice. Talking about the dragons." Sam looked at him, startled, as Frodo squeezed his hand tighter. "Sam said not to listen to dragons. Something..something happened then. It was like waking slowly from a nightmare." He looked at Aragorn gratefully. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't come after me. I'm not even sure what *did* happen." He leaned his head against Sam's shoulder, suddenly feeling very sleepy.  
  
"I have a guess," said Aragorn quietly. "It's odd, though..Boromir, how far are we from Isengard?"  
  
Boromir started to answer, then grinned. "Ask Merry," he said.  
  
"What? Why?" Aragorn looked at Boromir, then at Merry, who was groaning with embarrassment. "Merry?"  
  
"Boromir," Merry sighed. "Very well. Gosh it's a long way, Strider. Maybe 300 miles.." he pointed precisely southwest. "That way. Past the Entwash and..." Merry stopped, confused by the amazed faces around him. "What's the matter?"  
  
"Nothing," Aragorn said with a smile. He looked down at Pippin, who was pouring more cold water on the cloth for his eyes. "Hobbits just never cease to amaze, that's all."  
  
"Aragorn," said Gimli with a frown, "Are you saying that Saruman is behind this?"  
  
"It seems the most likely explanation." said the Ranger. "Phantom wizards and freak storms --- like that blizzard at the Redhorn Pass --- and it's almost as if someone was trying to ensnare Frodo in some type of spell. He didn't feel an urge to put on the Ring, but to bring it to someone. None of us know what Saruman looks like, we just know what he *is* like. And he wants the Ring." He looked at Sam with a smile. "Wizard or no, he is likely just learning of the resilience and strength of hobbits. Frodo and Sam together are an enemy the likes of which he has no doubt never encountered." Sam blushed.  
  
Aragorn got up, feeling rested. "Sam, try to keep Frodo awake, I want to check his throat for any swelling. Gimli, can you find some dry wood for a fire? I'd like to make something for Frodo's sore throat and we need to dry out. If that fire on the meadow didn't draw any unwelcome attention, a small one down here certainly won't make things any worse. We'll put it out before it gets fully dark."  
  
"I'll go with you!" Pippin leaped up and followed after Gimli.  
  
Boromir sighed. "That youngster has so much energy he makes me dizzy."  
  
"It's hard for him to sit still all day in the boat," Merry said. He grinned. "He's never endured a worse torture!" He got up to dig out some food.  
  
"I hope he never has to," Boromir whispered to himself.  
  
*****************  
  
Boromir lay sleepless long after the camp was quiet, unable to get Merry's offhand jest about torture out of his mind. He realized how fond he had become of these little ones, how unthinkable it was that anything should... Surely there were better ways to protect them than this hopeless journey south to destroy the one thing that could...  
  
Frodo lay nearby in an exhausted sleep, nearly buried in a pile of hobbits. All three had decided that if anything came after Frodo in the night it would have to go through all of them.  
  
It seemed to Boromir that there was very little in Middle-earth not stalking their tiny Ringbearer. Even the weather itself. Frodo should not have to bear this alone, such a fragile, innocent creature. Sauron was after the Ring. Saruman as well. That creature Gollum. They mustn't get it. Why was everyone so afraid to wield it?  
  
Boromir had seen the look Frodo gave Aragorn, that grateful, almost worshipful look. If Aragorn chose not to come to Minas Tirith, Boromir now knew beyond doubt that Frodo would not come either. He and the rest would follow Aragorn to almost certain capture, or death in the firey chasms of Mount Doom. And now Frodo would be more closely watched than ever. Aragorn would not let him out of his sight again.  
  
Yet I need to speak to Frodo alone, somehow. Surely he must grow weary of this burden. Surely I can make him understand that there are other paths open to him. It is he who puts the others in danger. How can I protect them when he makes such a choice? This cannot be permitted to continue.  
  
** TBC ** 


	5. Shadows and Light

NOTE: Many thanks for the encouraging reviews!  
  
DISCLAIMER: Of course. The characters don't belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.  
  
_________________________________  
  
WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON  
  
Chapter 5 --- Shadows and Light  
  
  
  
Pippin awoke with an odd feeling. He looked around and discovered a bright morning. It seemed a lot later than when someone usually woke him up, and no one was making any preparations to leave. Sam, Merry, and Frodo were still asleep, and the others were sitting around a small fire, talking quietly. Aragorn noticed him and came over.  
  
"It's all right, Pippin," he whispered. "You can sleep late if you want to."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"We're going to travel at night for awhile, make ourselves a little less visible. It may be safer thus. The more rest everyone gets today the better." He smiled. "When everyone's hungry enough, they'll wake up!"  
  
"Sounds kind of dangerous, Strider," Pippin said with a yawn. "We'll be really *really* hungry by then." Aragorn smiled and walked away. Pippin was asleep again within minutes.  
  
*********************  
  
After a late (and larger than usual) breakfast, the hobbits took the opportunity to bathe as best they could at the river's edge despite the icy water. Frodo especially needed to scrub all the soot and grime off him from the day before as he had fallen asleep so fast the previous night. Legolas and Aragorn went to see what damage the fire had caused, and to try to find evidence of anyone else who might have been up there. When they returned, Aragorn spotted Frodo sitting under a tree.  
  
"Do you want to be alone, Frodo?"  
  
Frodo smiled at him. "I doubt you'll ever let me be alone again, after yesterday. Here, sit down." The Ranger sat beside him, noting the waterskin lying in the grass.  
  
"I'm glad you're drinking a lot of water. Your voice sounds better, how does your throat feel?"  
  
"Better. Yesterday seems like a dream, somehow. It was so strange..." He looked up, frowning. "Why do you think the lightning hit the grass and not us?"  
  
"I was thinking about that too. That was one of the reasons I didn't think it was an ordinary storm. Under normal circumstances lightning hits the tallest thing around, which would have been me, I suppose. With our swords and your mithril we certainly were a target. I don't suppose we'll ever really know."  
  
"Did you find anything?"  
  
"No. No footprints or anything else. There was no sign that anyone had been out there for quite some time ---- physically, anyway. Of course the rain could have washed away any signs."  
  
"I doubt anyone was there ---- physically, anyway," said Frodo with a sigh. "It's quite wearying, always being a target. And that means all of you are targets as well.." His voice trailed off.  
  
"It's not you who put anyone in danger. It's the Ring and those who would use it to enslave and destroy. You're not responsible for us, Frodo. We're here of our own free will."  
  
"I know. Yet it gets more and more difficult, knowing all of you are in peril just being near me. I fear something may happen. Are you ever afraid, Aragorn? You don't seem to be."  
  
Aragorn looked out over the water. "Of course I am. Mostly when things happen when I'm not sure that what I can give you is enough. Like yesterday. It's hard to fight shadows." He looked down at the hobbit. "It eases me to think that you don't always have to rely on a sword or a bow for defense, but that there are other powers, other strengths. I meant what I said about you and Sam, you know. Something surely binds you two, I've never seen anything like it. Gandalf knew that, such foresight he had. I wish you really had seen him yesterday, Frodo. It would be so wonderful to see him again, to talk with him."  
  
"It certainly would. But Aragorn," Frodo rose, now eye to eye with the seated Ranger. "I'd have been dead long ago if not for you, and the Ring in the hands of the Enemy. Perhaps you're better at fighting shadows than you think."  
  
"Perhaps." Aragorn looked up at the sun, nearly overhead. "Do you think you can sleep a bit? We have to set watches during the day now, and proceed at night as quietly as we can." He smiled. "It will hard for Merry to travel at night, I think. In the dark he won't be able to tell every second where we are!"  
  
"He is amazing, isn't he? Such a head for plans and strategies and maps. I never knew that before we left the Shire. His family is very proud of him, he's to be Master of Buckland someday you know." Frodo thought about it. "Odd how we all seem be heir to something. Merry, Pippin, Legolas, Boromir, you..me..I wonder if Gimli.."  
  
"Not Sam, I suppose," said Aragorn quietly.  
  
"No, not Sam," Frodo sighed. "But he'll never want for anything, so long as I draw breath. He deserves so much, he's so much more than he believes himself to be. What he's done for me..." He turned to the Ranger with an intense look. "When we've finished this, Aragorn, and you're king, you must see to it that Samwise Gamgee's name is known and honored throughout the lands. I very much want to see that happen. Promise me."  
  
When we've finished this and you're king. Aragorn caught his breath at such a statement. Such a long road yet, such a long, dark road. Made brighter by this small person in front of him. So much brighter. He put his right hand to his breast. "I will, Frodo. You have my word." He tried to lighten the mood. "And you must tell me what Pippin is heir to. Not all of Tookland, is it? I'll try to be more respectful around him!" They laughed together, but Frodo was not quite finished.  
  
"Aragorn," he said softly, "Thank you for taking such good care of me. Sam tends me as he would one of his beloved gardens, needing water and food and rest and care. And you.." Frodo swallowed hard. "Thank you," he whispered. He turned and walked over to his bedroll, leaving Aragorn sitting on the grass, sitting motionless for quite a long time.  
  
  
  
** TBC ** (I will be on vacation until July 29. I'll try to upload another chapter while I'm on the east coast; if I can't, look for the next chapter on July 29!) 


	6. Conversations on the River

NOTE: I'm still on the east coast, but I unexpectedly got a chance to upload another chapter. Yay! Many thanks for all your kind comments and good wishes. I apologize that this chapter is all talk and no action, but Chapter 7 should make up for it!  
  
Erin-21, I hope you enjoy the Frodo/Boromir interactions coming up in Chapters 7 and 8.  
  
Tathar, I do plan some Gimli/hobbit conversations, but it may be several more chapters before they come about. I think they're a rare and wonderful thing also!  
  
Mistoffelees (our Pippin-lover), Chapters 7 through 11 (as I have them planned) should please you greatly.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Of course. The characters don't belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.  
  
_________________________________  
  
WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON  
  
Chapter 6 --- Conversations on the River  
  
  
  
"Boromir, are you listening to me?"  
  
Boromir was brought back to the present with a jolt. The fifth night of their journey found their boat drifting some distance behind Aragorn's, sliding down the Anduin under a thin crescent moon and brilliant stars. Merry was seated next to him, paddling at need, while Pippin lay half asleep among the packs and baggage behind them.  
  
"Forgive me, Merry. What were you saying?"  
  
Merry spoke just above a whisper, as they had all grown used to doing. "You've been so still, with such an odd look on your face. You've done nothing but stare at.... Boromir, are you staring at Frodo? Are you angry with him about something?"  
  
"No," the Man flushed and thought quickly. "No, not angry. I'm just still learning about hobbits, you know. Frodo has always seemed different, quite unlike the rest of you. He even *looks* quite unlike the rest of you."  
  
He was unprepared for the response. "I know," Merry sighed solemnly. "It's a problem."  
  
"A problem? Is Frodo considered so ill-favored then among the Shirefolk? It's difficult to believe."  
  
"No, of course not. He's amazing looking, anyone can see that. Still..." Merry sighed again. Boromir was completely confused, but relieved the subject had been changed so quickly.  
  
"Frodo's felt different all his life, you know," Merry continued. "Just being an orphan would have been enough. Then he was a Baggins among Brandybucks, then a Brandybuck among Bagginses... Bilbo saw to it that he was the best educated, best dressed, best everything. He stood out, lots of folks were jealous and mean. And of course he grew up to look like, well, *that*. Different, different, different. And all he ever wanted was to be a part of things just like anyone else."  
  
"Then he got the Ring," piped up Pippin, who had been listening. "And now everything's hunting him and chasing him, it's like he's all lit up in the dark. More different than ever. Poor Frodo." Both hobbits fell silent for a moment, contemplating the cruel destiny that had been their gentle cousin's life.  
  
"I was 11 when it started, remember Merry? At the Party? I felt so grown up being allowed to stay up that late.." Boromir stopped listening long before Pippin tired of recounting some extravagant party Bilbo had apparently thrown for himself.  
  
"Here, Merry, I'll paddle for a bit," Boromir said softly, bringing their boat closer to Aragorn's and sinking back into his thoughts.  
  
********************  
  
Legolas could finally stand it no longer. "Dwarves are capable of the most peculiar sounds. What are you thinking and muttering about, Gimli?"  
  
"Wizards."  
  
"What about them?"  
  
"How do we know it is only Saruman whom we must fear? What of the rest of the Istari, as you call them? Do they seek the Ring as well? If not, why do they not assist the Ringbearer in Gandalf's stead?"  
  
Legolas stared at him, his paddle dipping automatically down and back, down and back. "Worthy questions, my friend, quite beyond my ability to answer. I suspect if any of the Istari could assist us they would have been called to the Council. We may meet them yet, although in what guise I cannot say."  
  
********************  
  
"I know what I heard, Mr. Frodo. And I know what I saw."  
  
"I believe you, Sam." Frodo and Sam lay together in the rear of their boat, gazing back past the other boats, looking and listening.  
  
"What's so fascinating back there, Frodo?"  
  
Frodo got up and sat next to Aragorn. "We're being followed. Gollum."  
  
"Ah yes," the Ranger said. "He's been on our trail since we left Lórien. I had hoped that with swift paddling and this icy water we could outdistance him, but apparently not. Did Sam hear him?"  
  
"Yes," said Frodo. "And I've seen him. Several times, always at night."  
  
Aragorn looked at him. "Frodo, I tracked that creature for months and know how difficult he is to see, even in daylight. Has he come that close to you then?"  
  
Frodo looked down at his feet. "No, not close." He sighed. "Ever since the Morgul wounding I've been able to see quite well in the dark. I don't know why." He grew thoughtful. "The Ring doesn't want to be found by him again, but he's drawn to it. The Nazgûl could smell it, I think, and Gollum just..just knows where it is."  
  
"And you?" Aragorn asked quietly.  
  
Frodo glanced at Sam, who was watching him. "Except for a few moments here and there, it's not been out of my possession for 17 years. If it was, was taken.." Frodo could hardly bear the thought. "Yes, I would know where it is. I would pursue it as well."  
  
"Don't worry, Mr. Frodo," Sam said encouragingly. "No one's getting at that thing until you're good and ready to get rid of it. That's what we're all here for, after all."  
  
*******************  
  
The hours passed slowly as dawn approached, and Pippin found it nearly impossible to sit still. He traded places with Merry and sat next to Boromir, casting about for some topic of conversation.  
  
"Boromir, doesn't anyone *use* this river? There's no bridges, no boats, no people..where is everybody?"  
  
Boromir put his arm around him. "You have seen battle, little one, but you have not yet seen war. The South is at war, Pippin. The eastern shore is either uninhabitable or held by the Enemy, and it has grown unsafe to dwell or farm too near the western shoreline. Perhaps someday the Anduin will be safe once again for bridges, boats, and people. Not yet. Not yet."  
  
"Not until the Ring is destroyed, I understand. We just have to get Frodo to that mountain."  
  
Boromir was about to speak when Aragorn began to paddle strongly toward the shore, to a small inlet beneath looming cliffs.  
  
"Wake up, Merry," Pippin whispered. "It's time to make camp and get some sleep."  
  
*******************  
  
Frodo sat up suddenly, gasping for breath. Late morning. The familiar sound of sleeping friends breathing quietly around and near him. Stillness. He sighed. Only a nightmare.  
  
"Frodo, are you well?" Legolas had walked quickly over to him from where he stood nearby. Frodo looked at him, still breathing heavily. "A bad dream, that's all," he whispered.  
  
Legolas nodded and turned to go, but something in Frodo's look stopped him. He returned to the hobbit's side and knelt down. "Do you wish to talk?"  
  
Frodo rarely shared any doubts or fears, and the Elf was somewhat surprised when Frodo nodded and slowly rose, walking toward the boats. Legolas followed, and they sat together on one of the wooden seats.  
  
"I don't suppose Elves have bad dreams, do they?"  
  
Legolas chuckled quietly. "Elves seem to dwell in two worlds, Frodo. Perhaps they are both real, perhaps both a dream. But no, nightmares such as mortals experience do not come to us." He waited. "Tell me."  
  
"There was fire," Frodo whispered. "So hot. Not like Moria, it was...different. We were all there, yet I was alone. It was time, I had to, to destroy the Ring. It was time. We had made it to the fire." He was breathing hard, remembering. "I, I couldn't do it. I couldn't destroy it. I wanted to, I didn't want to, I.." He took a deep breath. "Gimli grabbed me, held me down. I was screaming, fighting. Somebody took the Ring from me and, and threw it in. Then there was just.. everyone looking at me with such disappointment, such anger. I felt only shame and grief and emptiness. I had failed." Tears were streaming down Frodo's face. "I failed everyone," he whispered, burying his face in his hands.  
  
"Frodo," said Legolas softly, "Do you recall what you pledged to do, at the Council?"  
  
"I, I said-----"  
  
"You said you would take the Ring. Perhaps when we get to the fire, Frodo, it will not be your task to destroy it. Only to take it there."  
  
Frodo said nothing, but Legolas knew he was listening.  
  
"It was just a dream, perhaps another of Samwise's dragons trying to deceive you." He smiled. "We have traveled with you a long way, my friend. There is not a person here who does not honor what you are doing and marvel at your strength. If you turned back this moment, Frodo, we would not be ashamed of you or hold you in lesser esteem. We could never be disappointed in you."  
  
"Thank you," whispered Frodo. He wiped his eyes. "Don't tell Sam. About the nightmare, I mean. He worries enough about me as it is."  
  
"I will not. But Samwise knows and senses more than you may think, Frodo. You do not wish to weigh him down with added worry or care, but I suspect he would not be burdened by such things. To lend you strength brings him great joy and purpose. I do not believe you truly know the gifts that surround you." He grasped Frodo's chin and gently brought the hobbit's eyes up to meet his. "Do not let the shadow blind you to light, Frodo. It is all around you. It is within you. I think it will be enough to help you when you most need it."  
  
Legolas stood up. "Try to sleep a bit more, your watch does not begin for many hours yet."  
  
"I will."  
  
The Elf watched Frodo walk slowly back to his bedroll and lie down. He didn't tell Frodo, but he was thinking that perhaps the nightmare had something of a future portent about it. Ring-bearer, Legolas thought, but perhaps not Ring-destroyer. Will that task fall to one of us?  
  
  
  
** TBC ** 


	7. No Safety

NOTES: I'm back! (Philadelphia was hot and humid, but my brother, nieces, dad, and 101-year-old grandmother are doing well. A good visit, but it's great to be back.) I did a LOT of thinking and writing while on vacation, so I hope to have chapters 8 and 9 polished and uploaded by the end of the week.  
  
I haven't read or reviewed anyone's stories since Friday, so I plan to spend a few days diving back into my favorite fics. What fun!  
  
Thank you EVER so much for such lovely comments and thoughtful reviews. As usual, I'm humbled and amazed at how much folks are enjoying my stories. (I'm especially honored that easterlily41482 chose this story for her first- ever fanfic.net review --- wow! I've been following her story on the FrodoHealers website with great enjoyment.)  
  
DISCLAIMER: Of course. The characters don't belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.  
  
_________________________________  
  
WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON  
  
Chapter 7 --- No Safety  
  
  
  
Later that day Frodo and Boromir took watch together, sitting on a large, flat rock where they could keep one eye on the towering cliffs ringing their campsite and one eye on the eastern shore.  
  
"It's good to see Aragorn get some sleep," Frodo said quietly. "I don't know how he does it."  
  
"Aye, he reminds me of my brother in that. He can also go long days and nights without sleep or rest." Boromir motioned toward Pippin, walking around a short distance away looking at interesting rocks on the pebbly beach. "Even young Pippin has learned to need less sleep!"  
  
"Boromir, it is good of you to keep an eye on Pippin and Merry, but you must tell us if you grow weary of it! We do not always need to keep to the same boats."  
  
The Man smiled. "I have grown quite fond of them, Frodo. It is anything but wearying to be around them." His smile faded. "They love you very much. They are worried about you."  
  
"I know," Frodo said. "I am worried about them as well. I have been thinking. If I choose....." he motioned to the eastern shore. "...perhaps you and Aragorn should take them with you to Minas Tirith when you leave us."  
  
Boromir chuckled. "Frodo, I doubt very much Aragorn will leave you, whichever path you choose."  
  
Frodo turned to face him, frowning. "At the Council he pledged to accompany you to Minas Tirith. I have just assumed..do you say he might not go?"  
  
"I do not know his thoughts, but the leadership of this Company must weigh heavily upon him since Gandalf's fall. If you choose to leave the River and attempt Mordor from the north, I believe Aragorn will accompany you. But it would be more practical to come first to my city, Frodo. For news, for counsel, for supplies...." He paused. "I cannot imagine that this Elvish bread alone will keep anyone alive for long in the wasteland that lies to the east."  
  
Frodo was about to answer when a sudden flight of birds from the cliffs directly above startled him. Spies of the Enemy? Something up there? Or nothing more than it seemed.. He sighed. "I no longer know what to think, what to trust. Everything you say sounds reasonable, Boromir, it's just..Boromir!"  
  
He and Boromir both saw it at the same time --- a boulder had somehow become dislodged from high above, and was tumbling and bouncing down the cliff-face directly at them. Boromir yelled out to the others as he grabbed Frodo and ran the few yards to the bottom of the cliff, pressing them both against the rock face and shielding the hobbit with his body. Frodo heard a tremendous crash, and felt everything shake. Small rocks spattered the cliff wall around them. Then silence.  
  
Boromir knelt down and turned an ashen-faced Frodo to face him. "Are you all right?"  
  
Frodo nodded, stunned. "Are you?" He flung him arms around the Man. "Thank you," he gasped. "What about---" He looked over Boromir's shoulder and caught his breath, his eyes taking in the scene in an instant. The boulder had smashed down directly where he and Boromir had been sitting, sending large and small missiles of rock flying through the campsite. Luckily almost everyone had already been lying down, if not asleep. What remained of the boulder lay some distance away, and the flat rock-seat was cracked and splintered. Gimli had risen to his feet and was staring grimly upward.... Aragorn was running.... Sam and Merry were running... running to...  
  
Boromir let go of Frodo and raced toward the small crumpled figure lying motionless near the boats. "No," Frodo whispered, stumbling forward. No.  
  
Frodo dropped to his knees beside Sam, staring in disbelief at Pippin lying unconscious on the ground. Broken bits of rock were scattered everywhere. Merry was holding Pippin's hand and Aragorn was gently examining a swelling on his left temple. To Aragorn's relief his probing fingers elicited a faint groan from Pippin. "That's a good sign, Merry. Boromir, would you get my pack?" The Ranger lifted Pippin carefully and carried him over to the young hobbit's bedroll. Sam started to rise when he realized Frodo was beside him, pale and shaking.  
  
"Mr. Frodo! Are you hurt?" Frodo turned tear-filled eyes to Sam and shook his head. "Oh Sam, not Pippin."  
  
Sam put his arms around his friend. "I know. Merry, Pippin, and I have seen you bad hurt, sir, more than once. But you've not seen anything much happen to one of us. It's a shock, I know. But he'll be all right, Strider will heal him right up. You know Pippin, by dinnertime he'll be...."  
  
Frodo buried his face in Sam's shoulder, scarcely hearing the soothing words. What if Pippin had been killed? First Gandalf..what if someone else..? Because of him. They were all in danger because of him.  
  
** TBC ** 


	8. Son of Gondor

NOTE: Thanks for the encouragement! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! (And Talking Hawk is so right; Elwen's "Interlude in Imladris" is a real winner, as is her "Of Tears and Trees" and "Tolo dan na ngalad" among others. Check 'em out!)  
  
DISCLAIMER: Of course. The characters don't belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.  
  
_________________________  
  
WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON  
  
Chapter 8 --- Son of Gondor  
  
  
  
Aragorn cleaned the bruise, and to keep Merry occupied with more than fretting he gave him the task of keeping a compress wrung out in icy river water bound gently to Pippin's temple. He then checked as thoroughly as he could for any other injuries and was somewhat amazed to find that there didn't seem to be any. He sat back on his heels. "This could have been a lot worse, Merry, he might wake with nothing worse than a bad headache. We have to keep him lying still, if such a thing is possible." He smiled. "I don't suppose he's old enough to have ever had a hangover?"  
  
"Actually he has," Merry said, wetting the cloth again. "Pip's always had a taste for ale, and last spring at the Ivy Bush there was this contest---- "  
  
"I see. Well, his head may feel just like that. Keep that compress on him, and keep it cold. Sam, it might be a good idea to bring over one of your basins, Pippin may feel a bit sick when he wakes up. Frodo, could you rig something to keep the sun out of his eyes?" Aragorn covered Pippin with a blanket and knew there was nothing left to do but wait. He looked around. "Was anyone else hurt? Frodo, did you or Boromir see what happened?"  
  
Frodo folded several of the boat covers and propped them up over Pippin in a tent-like shape to keep out the sun. Keeping busy was helping him to feel calmer. "We saw a flock of birds take off from the cliff up there, like they were startled by something," he said. "A few seconds later that big boulder came bouncing down from the top. Boromir...Boromir saved both our lives. I've never seen anyone move so fast."  
  
Boromir looked a bit embarrassed by the praise and changed the subject. "Unless we climb up there, Aragorn, I doubt we'll ever know if this was an an accident or deliberately caused. I think it must have been an accident; who could have known we would be here? Gimli, have you seen anything moving up there?"  
  
"Nothing, Boromir. If there were more rocks to throw down, or even arrows, I assume someone would have done so by now. This beach is littered with stone from many past rockfalls and this may have just been one more of them. Legolas, do you see anything?"  
  
Legolas, who had been scanning the eastern shore for any movement, holding his bow at ready, shook his head and came over. "I do not see or hear anything unusual. It was probably an unfortunate accident, although the landing place and timing of that boulder is certainly suspicious. But I agree with Boromir, we may never know for certain."  
  
Aragorn shook his head. "Every time we stop something seems to happen, but traveling at night still seems the wisest course, especially now. Whatever headache Pippin will have won't get any better if he doesn't stay out of the sun for a few days. We will leave tonight as soon as I know it is safe for him, and we'll have to take turns sleeping on the boats while the others paddle and keep watch. It may not be easy to relax here, but we still need to get what rest we can before we leave again." Frodo noticed that he looked a bit discouraged, or perhaps it was simply weariness. He caught Sam's eye.  
  
"Aragorn," he said, "Take some rest. We'll let you know when Pip wakes."  
  
The Ranger started to refuse, but Sam and Frodo took his hands and pulled him over to his bedroll. Amused, Aragorn sat down. "Let me know as soon as---"  
  
"We will," Frodo and Sam spoke as one.  
  
*****************  
  
Aragorn had slept for about an hour when Sam's soft voice woke him. "Strider, Pip's waking up." He walked over to the makeshift tent and sat down beside Merry. Frodo lay sound asleep next to Pippin, and Gimli and Legolas were still keeping watch. Boromir had made a small fire and was sitting nearby. Pippin hadn't opened his eyes, but he had raised his right hand up to his head with a wince.  
  
"Pippin, lie still." Aragorn took Pippin's left hand from Merry and held it. "Don't try to move or get up. Don't raise your head. Just lie still. Press my hand if you understand me." He felt a small squeeze. "Don't open your eyes until you're ready, Pippin. Can you move all your fingers and toes?"  
  
"Yes," a faint whisper.  
  
"Do you know where you are?"  
  
"River..."  
  
"That's right. I know your head hurts, does anything else hurt? Do you feel pain anywhere?"  
  
"Don't think so..Mer.." Merry placed his hand gently on Pippin's shoulder. "Right here, Pip," he said softly. Pippin slowly opened his eyes and looked around. "What..oh," he whimpered, closing his eyes again. "Dizzy.."  
  
"I know," Aragorn said soothingly. "Merry, lift that compress and let me see..yes, the swelling is already less. Pippin, you were hit by a piece of rock, but you'll be just fine. Do you feel sick to your stomach?"  
  
"N..No. Just headache and..sleepy.."  
  
Aragorn laid his left hand on Pippin's brow, his touch feather light. "You can sleep, Pippin. I'll make you some willow bark tea later for your headache."  
  
"Oh Strider," Pippin murmured. "That stuff is awful. Try..something else.." Aragorn felt the small hand in his slowly relax as Pippin fell back to sleep. He gently tousled the curly hair and smiled. "You scamp," he said softly. "That rock didn't stand a chance against you."  
  
*****************  
  
Frodo noticed Boromir flexing and rubbing his shoulder, and sat by him.  
  
"You *were* hurt, weren't you? Why didn't you say something?"  
  
"It's a small thing, just a bruise. Pippin is the one who needs the attention and care."  
  
Frodo's eyes drifted back to Pippin. "I can't stop thinking about what might have happened, that he might have been... I can't bear to see him hurt."  
  
"Nor I," said Boromir quietly. "Yet none of us is indestructible. Pippin chose to come with you and share whatever peril came. We all did."  
  
"I never thought.." Frodo's voice was scarcely above a whisper. "I never truly thought about Pippin and Merry..in Mordor."  
  
"You know they will not leave you willingly. Bring them to the safety of Minas Tirith and decide from there what to do."  
  
Frodo rose and laid his hand on the Man's sore shoulder, gently soothing the hurt. Boromir smiled. "That feels good, thank you." He grew aware that Frodo's hand was shaking a little, and he reached back and drew the hobbit close to him. "It was a close call, Frodo, but don't dwell on what might have happened. It serves no purpose."  
  
Frodo tore his eyes away from the flat stone, now broken, where he and Boromir had been sitting just hours before. His thoughts flew backwards --- - to the Redhorn Pass..the wargs...Moria ---- to everything Boromir had done for them. For him. "I wish you would stay."  
  
Boromir sighed. "Some days ahead are the lake of Nen Hithoel and the Falls of Rauros. I will perhaps go that far with you, but if you choose the eastern way.." He shook his head. "I've been gone half a year now, perhaps more. My duty calls me home. I would have liked to bring something more to my father than the answer to a rhyme and the rumor of a king, but if you will not return with me that is all I will have to bring."  
  
"I have not decided what to do, Boromir."  
  
"I know. But think on it, Frodo. The borders of the Black Land cannot be breached; not even with an army could you do so. There is no food, no water, little concealment. The land is watched and orcs are everywhere. The very air is poison. I do not know what Gandalf had planned for you, but the thought of hobbits in such a place chills my blood." His gaze fell on the shattered remnants of the boulder.. the shattered remnants of the tower of Ecthelion. Minas Tirith in ruins. The Shadow spreading, devouring.. Boromir closed his eyes, but it was still before him. Death. Ruin.  
  
"Do not take the Ring back to Sauron, Frodo. All will be lost." His arm tightened convulsively around the hobbit and his voice sank to an anguished, almost inaudible whisper. "All will be lost!"  
  
** TBC ** 


	9. Stout Hearts

DISCLAIMER: Of course. The characters don't belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.  
  
_________________________  
  
WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON  
  
Chapter 9 --- Stout Hearts  
  
  
  
"It's unnatural," grumbled Gimli. "I don't like it."  
  
"What's unnatural?"  
  
Gimli gestured to where Pippin lay, Frodo and Merry curled up on either side of him. Sam had taken Merry's place and was keeping the compress on Pippin's forehead cold. "It's too quiet."  
  
"I see," Legolas smiled. They were checking the boats for any damage. "No hobbits talking, pestering, eating, stirring things up, running about."  
  
"That's what I said. Unnatural."  
  
"Gimli, how will you ever be able to stand your quiet caves after this? Perhaps you had better take a few hobbits home with you." Legolas sat down on one of the boat seats. "Pippin can entertain you with endless tales and songs, Merry can map out the caverns, and Sam can make you even rounder with his cooking."  
  
Gimli looked at him. "What of Frodo?"  
  
The Elf said nothing for a few moments. "I have never seen or heard of anyone enduring so much. The evil of the Ruling Ring must tear at his very soul, yet he refuses to listen. I would not even jest about the destiny of such a one." He looked toward Frodo, lying asleep as close to Pippin as he could get. "He shines, sometimes, Gimli. Sometimes there is a clear light that.." He shook his head, unable to explain it. "I have seen the way Samwise looks at him, I believe he sees it as well. We have been greatly honored to be in this Company."  
  
Gimli nodded. "Yes, I agree. A rare honor indeed."  
  
Legolas looked at him. "Have you thought much, my friend, about what lies ahead? Neither of us pledged to enter Mordor, yet I suspect that is the choice Frodo will make. Even Elrond could not see the end of our road, perhaps even Mithrandir could not. The darkest part of this journey doubtless still lies ahead."  
  
"Aye, the Lady herself said as much, 'on the one hand lies darkness, on the other only hope.'" He and Legolas looked steadily at each other, each knowing that they would never abandon the Ringbearer. Then Gimli's eyes twinkled. "Perhaps the Black Lands will seem less dark when hobbits have invaded it!"  
  
Legolas laughed and clapped Gimli on the back. "Indeed, that would be a sight worth all our troubles."  
  
**************  
  
Pippin opened his eyes and looked around. He was lying, wrapped in blankets, under some sort of shaded cover. He felt the afternoon sun warming his feet, but the cover made everything seem cool and dark. Frodo lay sound asleep to his right, his right hand curled tightly in Pippin's blankets. Merry lay asleep to his left, his arm wrapped around Pippin's chest. He felt so comfortable, so protected. If his head would just stop pounding... He wondered if it was still today, or was it tomorrow? He reached up and felt the cloth on his forehead, and wriggled around a bit to see if anything else hurt.  
  
"Pip?" Merry was instantly awake. "How do you feel?" Frodo sat up and smiled at Pippin in relief.  
  
"Like Sam hit me on the head with one of his pans," Pippin groaned. "What's----" he started to get up but Merry pushed him back down.  
  
"You're not supposed to get up yet. Frodo, I'm going to get Strider. Don't let him get up, okay? Sit on him if you have to." Merry raced away. Pippin looked at Frodo, who was trying unsuccessfully to look stern and threatening. They both started to laugh.  
  
"Peregrin Took, I believe that entire boulder could have fallen on you and we would still not be rid of you!" Aragorn sat down and grinned at the young hobbit so Pippin would know he was joking. "Lie still, you scamp." This time it was Aragorn who had to push Pippin back down.  
  
"I'm starving, Strider!"  
  
"What a surprise. First tell me how you feel. Any nausea?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Really?" Aragorn was surprised. "Dizziness?"  
  
"A little."  
  
"How's your head?"  
  
Pippin sighed. "It hurts." He closed his eyes for a second. "A lot."  
  
Pippin was being brave, but Aragorn noted how pale he was. "You're recovering very fast. I thought Frodo was the only hobbit who could do that." Pippin smiled. "I'm going to bring you some willow bark tea.." Pippin grimaced. "...and if you drink it all I have a treat in mind for you. Something very special." He turned to Merry. "You can get him something to eat, Merry. Not too much right away, though. Frodo, help me with this." Frodo pulled a couple of the packs over while Aragorn slowly and gently lifted Pippin into a sitting position and then leaned him against the packs. "All right?" Pippin nodded. "Keep an eye on him. I'll be back." The Ranger walked over to the small fire to brew some of the tea.  
  
When Aragorn returned, Pippin was just finishing the dried fruit and cheese Merry had brought him. He eyed the steaming mug mournfully, then saw what Aragorn had in his other hand. A wafer of lembas.  
  
Pippin looked at him, wide eyed. He knew about the lembas, it was special and not to be touched. Aragorn doled pieces of it out very sparingly, and Pippin had decided it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. A few months ago nothing that tasted that good, however special or forbidden, would have been safe from him. But he had not taken any in secret, not even when there had been opportunities to do so. Now here was a whole wafer of it being offered to him. Just for him. He reached out his hand, then drew it back. It just didn't seem right. He looked up at Aragorn.  
  
"Can everyone else have some too?"  
  
Surprised, the Ranger looked into Pippin's eyes and smiled. "You are a wonder, Peregrin Took." He took the small hand and closed it around the waybread, then stood up. "Yes, everyone else can have some too. Provided you finish that tea." He looked at Frodo, who nodded. "He'll drink it, Aragorn."  
  
Aragorn walked over to the boat Gimli and Legolas shared, and took out some of the leaf-wrapped packages of lembas. Merry came and stood by him. Aragorn looked over at Pippin, who had broken off a corner of the waybread and was insisting that Frodo have some. "He's growing up, Merry."  
  
"I know. I don't know if his family will even recognize him. It might be difficult for Pip, when we get back..get back to.." Merry stopped, his smile fading. "Strider," he said quietly, "Do you think we'll ever get back home? Is there any hope?"  
  
Aragorn put the packets down and folded Merry in his arms. "There is always hope," he said just as quietly. "Even though we're trying to do something that's very difficult. I don't know how, but Gandalf seems to have chosen the four finest hobbits in the Shire for this quest." He knelt down and looked into Merry's eyes. "You've been very brave, you never let Pippin know that you have any doubts or fears. I'm sure it hasn't been easy for you."  
  
Merry gazed at him solemnly. "It's what you're doing for Frodo."  
  
"Yes it is," the Ranger agreed. "Let's keep being brave for awhile longer, all right?"  
  
"All right." Merry eyed the packets on the ground. "Is one of those for me?"  
  
Aragorn laughed and got to his feet. "Half of one of those is for you, you scoundrel. I haven't seen *you* missing any meals."  
  
"I suspect you've never feasted on what a hobbit would consider a true 'meal,' Strider," said Merry. "We'll have to remedy that.." He paused and looked at Aragorn with a smile. "..when we get home."  
  
** TBC ** 


	10. Choices

NOTES: I think I have the sweetest, most encouraging reviewers in the fanfic universe. My humblest and most heartfelt thank you! Just a few responses..  
  
buffy the reviewer slayer: I spent my first 23 years in Philadelphia and the second 23 years in southern California. My loyalties are split. (Well, my loyalty to the Shire comes *first*, I suppose!)  
  
Death of Ba-Gook: I promise Pippin will be well before the end of the story! I'm not sure yet exactly how many chapters there will be; most likely 14 or 15.  
  
Erin-21: I know you've been begging me not to kill Boromir since "Unlikely Comfort"! I can only promise you that no one dies in this story. (And what happens once an AU story is over can be left to our imaginations.) I'm so gratified you and others approve of my portrayal of Boromir as the human, complex, conflicted person he had to be. I always try to treat the characters with love and respect; they're my favorite people anywhere, after all.  
  
Lilybaggins: This is a "heads up" that Chapter 11 will have some lovely Frodo angst just for you.  
  
Niere: What a hoot, of course Pippin wouldn't know what it feels like to be hit by one of Sam's pans (or would he...?) ..  
  
Talking Hawk: I had NO idea I had Boromir speaking in rhyme, thanks for pointing it out! I was amazed! Don't know what I'd do without you, Hawk, your reviews leave me laughing hysterically, busily correcting and re- writing, and thinking in all kinds of new directions.  
  
Treehugger: Your reviews are so thoughtful I feel like we're sitting in a room having a conversation. What a joy!  
  
To everyone: You keep me going, you really do. I'm so thrilled you're taking these journeys with me. As you can see, with this story I'm trying to show a real fondness for the hobbits among Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and Boromir. I always thought the pursuit of Merry and Pippin through Rohan was out of love and duty, not just duty. Also, by popular demand I have a Gimli/hobbit conversation coming up in Chapter 11. (I may have to write one more before the end since there's so much enthusiasm for them.)  
  
Anyway.... on to Chapter 10.....  
  
DISCLAIMER: Of course. The characters don't belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.  
  
_________________________  
  
WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON  
  
Chapter 10 --- Choices  
  
  
  
Sam, the best at packing and arranging things, busied himself setting up a place in Boromir's boat for Pippin to lie down comfortably during the night as they traveled. He redistributed gear to the other boats and made sure Pippin would have enough blankets under and over him.  
  
Pippin grumbled a bit when Aragorn not only wouldn't let him stand up yet, but also insisted that he lie down in the boat all night and try not to sit up unless absolutely necessary. He was still protesting when, just before the Company was due to leave, he realized his head was beginning to throb again. He closed his eyes, and after awhile thought he heard his name and felt a hand on his shoulder. "Go 'way," he murmured. Boromir's soft chuckle, strong arms lifting him. He heard voices, someone's fingers at his wrist...more voices..movement... He was wondering if he could stand to swallow more of Strider's tea when sleep claimed him once more.  
  
Boromir carried Pippin to their boat and he and Merry settled him in amongst the nest Sam had made for him. Aragorn noticed Merry's worried look. "It's all right, Merry, he'll probably sleep on and off for a few days. Any head injury, even a small one, tends to have that effect. He really is recovering fast." He looked at everyone else. "Let's make as much distance as we can. Stay quiet, and stay alert."  
  
Frodo came over to Boromir, concerned. "Does your shoulder still ache?" he asked quietly, "I know you didn't tell anyone you were injured."  
  
The Man smiled at him. "You have a good heart, Frodo, but 'twas a small thing. It would take more than a bit of rock to fell a Man of Gondor!" Frodo smiled at him and they went to their boats.  
  
It was an uneventful night. They paddled for long stretches, gliding past a countryside increasingly barren to the east, high and rocky to the west. At dawn, the weary travelers glided into a tiny beach and took turns sleeping and keeping watch.  
  
Aragorn and Merry shared the watch in the late afternoon of that seventh day, and as they sat together in one of the boats Aragorn thought the time had come to discuss a difficult subject.  
  
"Merry," he began, "You and Pippin have a decision to make soon."  
  
"We do?"  
  
Aragorn looked at him. "Very soon Boromir will be returning home. You know that." Merry nodded. "Minas Tirith is a fortified city, as safe a place as now stands in Middle-earth. Frodo may decide that we should accompany Boromir and attempt Mordor from the west, or he may choose to cross the River soon and approach Mordor from the north. Regretfully, this decision will be his alone. If Frodo chooses the eastern way, you and Pippin will have to decide whether to continue on with him, a very difficult journey even before the border is reached, or to go with Boromir to Minas Tirith."  
  
Merry's mouth dropped open in astonishment, and as he started to speak Aragorn stopped him. "I know you never planned to leave Frodo. It probably never even occurred to you. I just wanted you to know that you have a choice. I wanted you to think about it." He smiled at the hobbit. "Go on, now. Wake Frodo and Sam for their watch and try to get some sleep." Merry just sat for a few minutes, then got up and walked away.  
  
Aragorn wondered what Legolas and Gimli had decided to do, but realized he already knew. Like him, in their hearts they were pledged to Frodo's side. Sam.. he smiled to himself. That went without saying. He looked over at Merry, sitting quietly next to Pippin under the improvised shade cover. As much as Merry wanted to keep Pippin safe, Aragorn didn't really think they would ever abandon Frodo. There was probably no decision to make.  
  
With all his heart, Aragorn wanted Boromir to take these two back with him, keep them safe and protected. If something should happen to one or both of them in Mordor he wasn't sure Frodo would be able to go on. On the other hand...he sighed. Who was he to say what Frodo Baggins could or could not endure? Or where Merry and Pippin's destinies were leading them. They were free to choose. They all were. But the hardest choice lay with Frodo, and it could not much longer be put off.  
  
******************  
  
Merry knew he should be sleeping, but Pippin was trying to stay awake and there was no time like the present. He deserved to make his own decisions.  
  
"Pip?"  
  
"Mmmm?"  
  
"Have you thought about what it will be like when Boromir leaves?"  
  
"Of course I have."  
  
Merry turned over and stared at his cousin. "You have?"  
  
"Sure." Pippin frowned. "What about it?"  
  
"You know Frodo might not want to go with him."  
  
"I know."  
  
"We could go with him, you know. It would be safer and all."  
  
"Leave Frodo?" Pippin sat up even though he knew he wasn't supposed to. His look showed that he truly thought his cousin had lost his mind. Slowly, comprehension dawned.  
  
"Are you scared something will happen to me in...in..?" He pointed across the River. Merry just looked at him and said nothing. "Silly," Pippin smiled and touched his still-tender bruise. "Something can happen anywhere."  
  
Merry sighed. "You're growing up so fast, Pip, it's hard to keep up."  
  
Pippin lay down again, a bit sorry he had sat up so fast. "I'm scared for you too, you know." He was quiet for a moment. "But I'm mostly scared for Frodo. Let's help him get rid of that awful Ring and go home. All right?"  
  
"All right," Merry said softly, pressing his cousin's hand.  
  
"Mer, do you think... do you think we *are* helping Frodo at all?"  
  
"I don't know." Merry was quiet for a moment. "But this is what friends do for each other. Gandalf thought we should come, and so did we. Do you remember Frodo's face when Elrond said we could go? I don't think he much liked the thought of being sent off on this journey with so many Big Folk and only one hobbit for company. He was glad, Pip. He still is. Maybe that's enough help for now. We have a long way to go still, you know."  
  
"I know." Pippin started to sit up again, then thought better of it and lay back down.  
  
"Your head still hurts, doesn't it?"  
  
"Not like before. Not enough to drink more of that bitter stuff." He yawned.  
  
"Try to sleep some more, Strider says it's the best thing you can do."  
  
"I will..if you...will.." Pippin's voice trailed off.  
  
Merry lay on his back and stared up at the clouds. He knew Pippin would miss Boromir a lot, and so would he. As best he could figure, they had been traveling together for two months. He remembered Caradhras..Moria.. and Frodo would have been killed by that rock if not for him. Still.. He didn't like the way Boromir had been looking at Frodo recently. It was as if he wasn't even looking at him as a person, more as --- the word came unbidden to his mind --- Ringbearer. Something wasn't right, they would just have to watch out for Frodo even more than before. Merry doubted his cousin had any idea how much he and Sam and Pippin worried about him, how closely they watched. He smiled to himself. It was just like their conspiracy back in the Shire.  
  
As Merry gazed at the sky, he saw a large, soaring shape pass high overhead. Enormous bird, he thought sleepily, is that an eagle? He had never seen one, but Bilbo's stories were full of eagles. He noticed Legolas watching it carefully, but he didn't seem alarmed. Merry sighed and closed his eyes. If only one of the eagles could fly Frodo to the mountain, he mused, and he could just toss the Ring overboard.. then just a short flight home.. if only.. finally he fell asleep.  
  
** TBC ** 


	11. Nazgûl

NOTES: I've fixed a few typos (horrors!) in Chapter 10.  
  
My apologies to the Legolas fans, I know he doesn't get much to do in this story. (He played rather a large role in "Unlikely Comfort", though.)  
  
Jewel of the Twilight: What a lovely, wonderful compliment. I can't tell you how happy your comments make me. I'm so thrilled to be able to contribute stories that are as interesting for adults as they are appropriate for young adults or even children. I have no plans to write anything containing profanity, slash, sex, or inappropriate violence. At first I wasn't sure there was a niche for a more "tame" type of story like the ones I write, but I've been greatly encouraged by the wonderful reviews and comments.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Of course. The characters don't belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.  
  
_________________________________  
  
WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON  
  
Chapter 11 --- Nazgûl  
  
  
  
"Young hobbit, I may have to sit on you."  
  
Pippin and Gimli were sharing the afternoon watch on the eighth day, sitting together in one of the moored boats. Pippin had insisted he was feeling fine, but Aragorn had quietly told Gimli not to let him exert himself too much. The Dwarf was beginning to think he had been given a task as impossible as finding mithril on the moon. He hauled the hobbit back just as Pippin was about to dash off for the third time.  
  
"Gimli, I feel like I've slept through everything! It's hard to sit still for so long. I want to...." Suddenly Pippin's voice trailed off. Gimli looked at him, and noticed Pippin looking at his axe and frowning.  
  
"Strider's sword has a name, and so does Frodo's. I suppose Boromir's does too. Maybe I'll name mine if I ever get to do anything important with it, " said Pippin. "Does your axe have a name?"  
  
Gimli fingered his axe almost lovingly. "It does not, Peregrin. Perhaps we can think of something."  
  
"Well," Pippin said seriously, "You're certainly skilled with it. And you hate orcs, that's plain. Orc-Bane might be good."  
  
"That is a good name. I will consider it." He noticed Pippin shifting slightly, facing away from the sun. "Come, sit on this side of me. The air is chill, but the sun is bright. You do not want your headache returning."  
  
Pippin was going to say no, but he did feel a slight ache starting. He moved around to the other side of the Dwarf and let Gimli shield him from the sun. After a few minutes Gimli felt Pippin lean against him, just a little.  
  
When Legolas and Merry came to relieve them, they found Pippin fast asleep, his head pillowed in the Dwarf's luxuriant beard. Gimli motioned for them to leave them be. "Let him sleep," he said softly. He sat for awhile longer, his arm wrapped around Pippin, thinking. Thinking about Orcs...Khazad-Dûm....what lay ahead for them in Mordor. Orc-Bane, he was thinking. Indeed.  
  
*******************  
  
That evening Aragorn gathered everyone together. "I think we can dare one more trip by night. If I am correct in my reckoning we should reach the rapids of Sarn Gebir tomorrow morning. Just above the rapids is a small beach, at which point we will have to leave the River and find the ancient portage-way. The boats and gear must be carried until we have passed the rapids and can take to the River once more."  
  
They set out in darkness, Sam in the lead boat keeping his attention straight ahead. If anything was going to make the boat rock or become unsteady, he wanted to know about it. Indeed it was good that he was so attentive, as some hours later he suddenly cried out as the River before them suddenly resolved into white-capped swirls and became turbulent. At the same time, a strong current started to draw the boats steadily toward the eastern shore.  
  
"The rapids are upon us sooner than I feared," shouted Aragorn to the boats behind. "Paddle strongly back toward the center of the River or we will be driven onto the shore!" He and Frodo drove their paddles forcefully into the water, attempting to turn the boat.  
  
Without warning, something sharp and hard hit Frodo from behind, the force of the blow driving him off the seat onto his knees, his paddle flying from his grasp. Sam gasped as Frodo fell at his feet.  
  
"Sam! Get Frodo's paddle. Now, Sam!" Aragorn was driving his paddle deeply into the water, urgently trying to turn the boat away from the eastern shore. Sam was reaching for Frodo, who was trying unsuccessfully to get up. "Keep down, Frodo. Sam, you have to help me, NOW!" At the last possible second Sam grabbed Frodo's paddle as it swirled by and then leaped into the middle seat next to Aragorn. Mere seconds had passed, and only now he realized that there were harsh cries and yells coming from the eastern shore and arrows whizzing past them. "At least there's no moon," Aragorn muttered. "Paddle, Sam. As hard as you can."  
  
Sam heard a yell from Pippin, but the other boats were behind them and he couldn't turn to see what was happening. "Paddle hard!" yelled Aragorn to the others, "Fight the currents and make for the shore!"  
  
Sam didn't know how long they fought to turn the boats in the swift current, but his arms were aching by the time he realized they were making headway. The western shore loomed near, and for some reason the arrows had ceased to pursue them.  
  
Aragorn was equally exhausted. Apparently the dark night combined with the subtle colors of the Elvish cloaks and the boats had camouflaged them sufficiently to confuse the Enemy. His eyes kept straying to Frodo, but there was nothing to be done until they reached the shore. In his thoughts he gave thanks for the mithril coat that had probably saved Frodo from death. Again.  
  
Finally the three boats scraped up on land, and Legolas instantly leaped ashore, an arrow nocked to his bow. "Stay in the boats," he urged. "Stay down." Everyone but Gimli obeyed as the Elf scanned the eastern shore, the dark skies, and the River itself. Gimli stood next to Legolas, his axe in hand. "Orcs," he muttered, "Let them come!"  
  
Sam could stand it no longer. He dropped his paddle and kneeled next to Frodo, trying to protect him with his body. He could feel Frodo breathing heavily, in obvious pain.  
  
"I don't see anything," Legolas said. "Wait, what is that?"  
  
Frodo suddenly felt an icy, piercing dart shoot through his left shoulder, a spreading, numbing cold he had not felt since.. "No," he gasped, bowing his head in terror. As this new pain joined with the blow from the arrow, Frodo started to find it difficult to breathe. He started to shake, and Sam wrapped his arms about him, holding him tightly. Sam was saying something to him, but louder still was a hollow voice, whispers coming closer. No, leave me alone I won't listen no...  
  
Aragorn saw Frodo's distress, then followed Legolas' intense gaze and saw a shadow in the sky blotting out the stars. Something was approaching from the southeast, coming directly at them. Something large...winged..a feeling of dread fell on the Company. Aragorn was reaching for his bow when Legolas let fly an arrow. There was a scream, a chilling cry familiar to the hobbits, then the winged creature fell from the sky and landed somewhere on the eastern shore. There were faint yells, then silence.  
  
Sam felt Frodo go limp in his arms. Frodo sighed as the icy pain faded somewhat, leaving a throbbing ache where the arrow had hit him and been deflected by the mithril coat. He sat up slowly, supported by Sam. He felt drained, weak. There was no doubt in his mind what had been approaching. But Elrond had cured him..hadn't he? How could the presence of a wraith affect him so? He shook his head, confused and frightened.  
  
"Merry," Pippin whispered, "That awful screech sounded like one of those Black Riders. What was it riding on?"  
  
"A Black Rider?" Boromir looked grim. "Aragorn, if the Nine now ride the skies there is nothing to prevent them from crossing the River anywhere, at anytime. We cannot delay in carrying a warning to Rohan, to Gondor." He grew insistent. "Aragorn, we cannot delay! There can be no further thought of crossing to the eastern shore. It was unwise before, now even less so."  
  
"That choice is still Frodo's, Boromir."  
  
"Frodo, we must stay on the western shore, we must! How can you even consider-----" Boromir stopped. "Are you injured?"  
  
Aragorn suddenly realized Frodo was still leaning against Sam, sitting weakly in the bottom of the boat. "Frodo, let me see where that arrow hit you. Mithril or no, I'm sure that hurt quite a bit."  
  
"I am all right."  
  
Sam looked confused. "Mr. Frodo, Strider just wants to----"  
  
"No, Sam." Frodo's lips were set in a hard line, and he looked grimly out over the water.  
  
Aragorn glanced at Sam, then back at Frodo. "I thought I knew you pretty well, Frodo, but I think this is the first time I've seen you angry." He waited, not pressing the hobbit further.  
  
Frodo just looked at him, then sighed. "Gandalf said Elrond cured me."  
  
Aragorn looked puzzled. "Go on."  
  
"It was in Rivendell after, after I woke up. I believed him." Frodo looked away again, but now his eyes were glistening with unshed tears.  
  
"Frodo," Aragorn said softly, "I have never seen anyone come closer to death and live. I hope never to see such a thing again. If you do not know, ask Sam sometime what those days in Rivendell were like for him, for all of us." Frodo heard Sam catch his breath and felt his arms tighten about him. He swallowed hard and took Sam's hand. "Do not ever doubt that Elrond cured you, Frodo," Aragorn continued. "No one else could have."  
  
"But----" Frodo started to speak but Aragorn interrupted.  
  
"Elrond cured you, or you would even now walk in the shadow world forever lost to us. But once touched by a weapon of the Enemy.." He sighed. "Frodo, you are the first mortal ever to come through that and live. No one, not even Gandalf, could know everything that might happen. Gandalf used to say that even the wise could not see all ends. He did not intentionally deceive you, Frodo, there was just no precedent."  
  
Aragorn reached out his hand and gently touched Frodo's right shoulder. "Your body responds to the presence of the Nazgûl. Perhaps you can look on it as another sense, like sight or sound. If you can bear it, you may find it useful. You are one of the strongest people I've ever known, Frodo. You'll find the strength to handle this." He smiled at Sam. "Strength is all around you." He looked up. "Son of Gloín, perhaps you would be kind enough to share some of that waybread you are consuming?"  
  
Gimli grinned and handed out some of the lembas. As Aragorn had hoped, it helped distract the hobbits somewhat from the horror of the Orcs and the presence of a wraith so near. From the way Frodo kept glancing back across the River, the Ranger knew the wraith was still there, now lacking the means to reach them. They should be safe until morning at least, as safe as it was possible to be in such a situation.  
  
The Company paddled slowly and quietly back upriver, soon finding a shallow bay where they stopped. They spent the night huddled in the boats, concealed by a thickening fog, for a long time too tense to even relax to any extent. Sam saw a black arrow embedded in Boromir's boat, and discovered that Pippin's yell had come when he saw the arrow miss Merry's hand by less than an inch. Merry still seemed a bit shaken.  
  
Frodo finally felt the icy, numbing sense of the Nazgûl fade entirely. "I'm sorry, Aragorn, I didn't mean to be cross," he whispered.  
  
"Frodo, if anyone deserves to be 'cross', it's you. Let me see if you're hurt. We have a long night ahead of us." Frodo nodded, and the Ranger took Sam's place beside him, sliding his hand up Frodo's back beneath the soft leather shirt next to the hobbit's skin. He would not permit Frodo to remove the mithril coat; the Enemy was too near. It was difficult to determine in such darkness, but it appeared to Aragorn that Frodo's shoulder was bruised and tender, but no worse. He asked Sam to keep a cold, wrung-out cloth pressed gently to the sore area, which helped ease the pain. As a damp fog closed in about them, they settled down to wait out the night.  
  
** TBC ** 


	12. Cousins and Friends

CONTEST!! Here's my dilemma. As we all know, when Merry and Pippin are taken by the Orcs they each have a wafer of lembas in their pocket. I've already established in this story that the lembas is only doled out sparingly and no one would just grab some and hide it. So how do I get the lembas in their pockets on that crucial final day of the Fellowship (two days from this chapter)? It has to be a reason that's consistent with the story. I was going to skip the whole subject, but if you have an idea let me know, and if I use it I'll give you full and exuberant credit! I'm still working out Chapters 13-15, so there's time to think about it.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Of course. The characters don't belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.  
  
_________________________________  
  
WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON  
  
Chapter 12 --- Cousins and Friends  
  
  
  
Morning dawned thinly through the fog, which still drifted about the boats and obscured the eastern shore. Almost all had slept fitfully, in short spurts, huddling in the boats. Gimli and Legolas had insisted on keeping watch throughout the long night. Frodo had been unable to sleep at all.  
  
"Legolas and I will seek out the ancient portage-way. Once we bring the boats and gear to it, it is a mile south, perhaps a bit more, until we may take to the River once more." Aragorn shot a concerned glance at Frodo, who still seemed to be in some pain and was looking weary from his sleepless night. The Ranger doubted Frodo would be able to carry anything, and he still wished Pippin would take it easy, but first the path needed to be found. They would decide later how everything could be accomplished.  
  
"I do not wish us to split up," Aragorn continued, "But there is no choice. If we have not returned by tomorrow morning you must choose your course and leave here as best you can. Do not attempt the rapids, even in daylight. I assume our friend Gollum led the Orcs to us, so at least one person should stay on watch at all times. Hopefully this side of the River is still safe." He caught Frodo's eye and they looked at each other for a long moment, then Aragorn and Legolas walked away and disappeared into the fog.  
  
Frodo stood up and stepped slowly onto the shore. He tried to hide the fact that his shoulder still felt somewhat stiff, but Sam and Merry were at his side in an instant.  
  
"Frodo, you haven't had any sleep," said Merry, guiding him over to a dry patch of soft grass. "Rest while you can. You don't have to be so brave all the time you know, it's all right to say 'ouch' once in a while!"  
  
Frodo laughed and let himself be lowered to the ground. Pippin promptly came over and sat next to him --- practically on top of him, actually.  
  
"Your bruise is almost gone, Pip," Frodo said. "How are you feeling? You don't have to be so brave all the time either, you know."  
  
"I don't feel brave at all, Frodo. I wish I was."  
  
"Pippin," Frodo said softly, "You, Merry, and Sam are about the bravest hobbits who ever lived. Just think back to everything we've been through." He looked at Pippin closely, who seemed to be amazed by what he was saying. "Have I forgotten to tell you I'm so proud of you I could just burst? Oh Pip," he murmured, putting his arms around his cousin.  
  
Pippin sighed and nestled into Frodo's arms. Merry thought he was growing up, and Frodo was proud of him.  
  
"Mr. Frodo," Sam said, "What will we do if Strider and Legolas, well, don't come back?"  
  
"I hope we don't have to find out," said Frodo with a frown. "We can't cross to the eastern shore, not yet anyway. We can't take the boats through the rapids, and we can't go back. But none of that matters. We couldn't abandon them, Sam. We'd have to follow them and try to find out what happened. Just leave the boats here, carry what we can, and find them."  
  
"Frodo," said Merry, "We're a lot closer to Isengard now than we were before."  
  
"We'd just have to be -----" Frodo suddenly smiled and looked down at Pippin, who had fallen asleep in his lap. "I wish I could do that," he said with a yawn. "I think Pip could sleep hanging upside down from a tree."  
  
"He didn't answer your question, you know," said Merry. "About how he was feeling. He still has a little recovering to do." He looked at Frodo. "And so do you. Lie down and try to sleep. We may have a lot to do later."  
  
"Yes sir," Frodo smiled. He lay down in the grass, taking Pippin with him, and managed to find a comfortable position. In a few minutes Merry and Sam were gratified to see that he had fallen fast asleep, Pippin still curled in his arms. Sam tucked a blanket around them both.  
  
*****************  
  
Pippin woke from a sweet dream to find himself under a blanket in Frodo's arms. He looked up.  
  
"You had a good sleep," Frodo said with a smile. "You must have been dreaming of something nice."  
  
"I was," Pippin yawned. "Something about a birthday party..."  
  
Frodo laughed. "Are you trying to remind me that you turn 29 soon? I don't know where we'll be, Pip, but we'll figure out some way to celebrate. I liked being 29," he mused, "Such fun, not a care in the world.."  
  
"Frodo, do you think much about home?"  
  
"I certainly do," Frodo said. "The thought of our beautiful Shire safe and sound.... sometimes that's *all* I think about."  
  
"I wonder where they all think we've got to?"  
  
"Well," Frodo thought about it. "Gandalf said at the Council that he found the Crickhollow house broken into and empty, so Fatty most likely escaped the wraiths. Word may have gotten back from Bree that we left there with a Ranger, but that's probably the last anyone heard of us. Elrond certainly wouldn't have risked sending a message back to the Shire about us." He sighed. "They all might think we're dead, Pip, killed by a Ranger or lost in the Wild. No one is likely to miss *me* I suppose, but your family, and Sam's, and Merry's must have sent out search parties and such." He pulled Pippin closer. "We'll just have to get back home safely and astound them all, won't we?"  
  
"We will, I know we will."  
  
Frodo sat up. "Of course, with Bag End sold and Crickhollow ransacked, I might have to come live with you. Think your sisters would mind?"  
  
Pippin smiled. "I can't think of anything they'd like better, Frodo. You'll have to fight them off with Sting." He sat up also and looked around. It appeared to be around noon. Merry and Gimli were keeping watch and Boromir was stretched out nearby, asleep. Sam was standing near one of the boats, apparently having just filled Frodo's pack with something fairly bulky. He heard what they were talking about and came over to them.  
  
"It's hardly the place for a Baggins, sir, but you'd be welcome at Number 3 Bagshot Row." He grinned. "Of course you'd have to fight my sisters off with Sting as well!"  
  
Frodo laughed delightedly. "I suspect I'm a bit old for any of them, but it's nice to know I won't be out in the cold!"  
  
"Now that Frodo's living arrangements are taken care of, we shouldn't have any more worries on this journey!" Legolas appeared out of the fog behind them, chuckling as he walked past.  
  
Frodo turned red, aiming a kick at Pippin who scuttled out of the way with ease. "You started it, Frodo!"  
  
Aragorn came past, pleased to see that Pippin seemed back to his old self. He noted that Frodo slightly favored his left arm as he rose to his feet.  
  
Waking Boromir, Aragorn spoke to the group. "We found the portage-way, it lies somewhat back from the River at this point. The terrain is rather rough before we can reach it and may make for a wearying day. It is then somewhat more than a mile south to where the rapids end and we can take to the boats once again."  
  
As one, the Company unloaded the boats. Sam brought Frodo over to the pack he had filled for him. "Here, sir."  
  
Frodo frowned at the bulky pack. "Sam, I don't think------" He lifted it and was surprised at how light it was. "Sam?"  
  
"It's the lembas. Someone has to carry it after all, and I don't think you should manage anything heavy just yet." Sam looked around at the piles of gear. "We will need several trips, I would think.... You can carry the coils of that Elven rope next, if you like. They're wonderfully light." He looked at Frodo sternly, a half-dozen arguments ready on his tongue should there be any protest. To his surprise, Frodo just shook his head and smiled.  
  
"Thank you, dear Sam," he said softly. "What would I ever do without you?"  
  
Aragorn nodded approvingly at Sam, then turned to Frodo. "At least there won't be any danger of Pippin getting lost in the fog, I doubt he'll let that lembas out of his sight!"  
  
******************  
  
While everyone was busy sorting out the gear, Sam drew Merry apart from the others. They stood side by side at the River's edge, peering into the gloom.  
  
"He'll need to decide soon. What do you think?"  
  
"Boromir says it's impossible," said Merry quietly, "But Gandalf thought we could do it. I cannot imagine he would have sent Frodo off with the Ring if there was no hope at all. I don't know, Sam." He closed his eyes, remembering. "The maps with Mordor in them were pretty sparse. Maybe whoever made them didn't go too far in. I doubt anyone really knows exactly what's over there."  
  
"There's wraiths over there," said Sam. "And that Gollum, and Orcs, and who knows what else. But he's likely to make a run for it anyway, try to go alone."  
  
"I know. But he can't jump over the River. As long as he doesn't get his hands on one of the boats I don't think he can get away from us."  
  
"The Ring, though.... He could put it on and disappear."  
  
"He wouldn't do that."  
  
"He's scared. Scared to go alone and scared to take any of us with him. He was so shaken up when Pippin was hurt, he can't bear to think of anything else happening to one of us. He'll want to go alone, just like back in the Shire." Sam sighed. "I'm scared too."  
  
"So am I."  
  
"We can't let him see it," Sam said. He turned to look at Frodo.  
  
"He won't," said Merry, his eyes resting on Pippin.  
  
** TBC ** 


	13. Isildur's Heir

Gosh, you folks are WONDERFUL. I can't thank you enough for the encouragement and enthusiasm.  
  
I'm so glad fanfiction.net has increased the limit of our "favorite authors" listings from 15 to 30. I've got a full 30 on my list and wish there was room for a few more.  
  
Tathar: What an incredible compliment to be compared to Goldenwolf! I thought her story "The Heir" was one of the best ever. I'm sorry the newer authors won't have a chance to enjoy her work, as it seems to have been pulled from the site (unless she has a new penname now?). I'm honored to be mentioned in the same sentence as Goldenwolf.  
  
Treehugger: I'm glad you enjoyed the concept of "search parties" when Merry, Sam, and Pippin disappeared. I wish someone would write a short fic about the reaction of their families when months went by without any word from them..... and how they all felt when their beloved sons returned... Anyone?  
  
Sorry it took longer than usual to update. I got enjoyably sidetracked by a fun writing interlude ("Reunion in Minas Tirith" and "Reunion at Isengard"). I suspect I may have one more "reunion" vignette in me somewhere.  
  
NOTE: There is no slash implied in this chapter.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Of course. The characters don't belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.  
  
_________________________________  
  
WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON  
  
Chapter 13 --- Isildur's Heir  
  
It was an exhausting day for all save the sturdy Dwarf. The hobbits, toiling through brush and around and over rocks with their arms full of gear, marveled at the ease with which Gimli carried his boat the entire way with no assistance while burdened with quite a heavy pack. Legolas remarked to Pippin that he had never seen the Dwarf look so pleased with himself.  
  
The terrain proved to be even rougher and more uneven than Aragorn had described. Finally after many hours and many trips, the boats and gear were carried to the southern landing where everyone collapsed with fatigue. Or almost eveyone.  
  
Frodo sat down next to Gimli and noticed that the Dwarf was not even breathing hard. "That was an amazing display of strength, Gimli. Truly remarkable!"  
  
Gimli's eyes gleamed. "Indeed, I have not had much opportunity to show my usefulness to you or this Company 'ere now. It was a small thing, but a satisfying one!"  
  
"Not much opportunity.." Frodo frowned. "Gimli, do you truly believe that? You have been a tireless defender and a loyal friend. I cannot imagine this Company without you. But more than that... I suppose I never told you..."  
  
The Dwarf looked at him, puzzled.  
  
Frodo looked down at the ground, embarrassed. "This journey has been so long, so difficult and frightening. Not at all like I imagined it would be. I grew up listening to Bilbo's stories, you know. About the dragon and the Dwarves.... and coming back safe and sound.... He sighed. "After we left Rivendell, at night sometimes, when I needed to, I could close my eyes and pretend I was having an adventure just like Bilbo's. I even had two companions he had --- a wizard and a Dwarf. And when Gandalf fell.." Frodo looked at him. "I still had you."  
  
Gimli was very moved. "Master Baggins, I too spent years hearing stories of the Grand Adventure from my father and every conceivable cousin!" He chuckled. "They never tired of the tale. We are in the same tale yet, you and I. I did not realize that my presence helped you to-------" He stopped, suddenly aware that everyone was listening to them. "In any event," he said gruffly, patting Frodo on the shoulder, "It is good that we have met thus." He abruptly rose and busied himself with sorting out some of the gear.  
  
Frodo's eyes followed Gimli as he bustled about, then took in his companions, some sitting down, some standing and talking quietly. How dear they all were to him.  
  
"We will stay here tonight, we all need rest," said Aragorn. "Tomorrow we should pass the Argonath and reach the falls of Rauros at last, where we will.. decide our further course." Frodo raised his eyes to meet his, then looked away. He didn't notice Boromir gazing at him, as if trying to read his heart and thoughts.  
  
*****************  
  
"What's the Argonath, Strider?" That evening Pippin sat comfortably against Gimli, who seemed not to mind in the least.  
  
"They are the 'stones of the king,' Pippin, statues on each side of the River which denote the northern border of Gondor. Beyond them are a vast lake, then the mighty falls of Rauros. The statues are of my ancestors, Isildur and Anárion, carved more than a thousand years ago. Our noble Dwarf may find the ancient stonemasonry to his liking!"  
  
"We shall see," Gimli smiled.  
  
"Isildur and his brother Anárion were the founders of Gondor and gained great renown," Aragorn continued. "I have never seen the carvings, have you, Boromir?"  
  
The Man shook his head. "I have not, I have heard of them only in tales. Like you, I will welcome the sight."  
  
"Isildur," murmured Frodo. He suddenly shivered as if with chill.  
  
"Yes, Frodo, the same," said Aragorn.  
  
A bit later Aragorn said he would take the first watch, and Frodo quickly volunteered to join him. The camp slowly quieted as the Company tried to sleep.  
  
"Aragorn," said Frodo quietly.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"At the Council, when Gandalf told us about Isildur and the Ring...." he hesitated.  
  
"What's troubling you, Frodo?"  
  
"Why...." Frodo took a deep breath. "Why didn't you take it? You seem to have no interest in the Ring. It is yours by right, you could have taken it from me more times than I can count, yet you have not."  
  
Startled, Aragorn was silent for a long time. "I do not truly know why the One Ring does not tempt me, Frodo. If I were its bearer it is possible that my strength and will would not be equal to what yours have been." The Ranger's voice grew quiet as he thought of many things. "You carry a heavy burden, and have embarked on a nearly impossible quest. I, too, have learned over many years to endure great burdens, to attempt the impossible. We are much alike, and our destinies seem joined." He shook his head. "It does not belong to me; it does not belong to anyone. You are the Bearer, and I pledged my life and death to you that night in Bree. That is all I know."  
  
"I understand," Frodo whispered. He leaned against the Ranger and looked out over the water. The sound of the rapids, now upstream, seemed loud in his ears.  
  
"It was a tiring day, Frodo. Why don't you try to get some sleep? I'm sure Legolas wouldn't mind trading watches with you."  
  
"I will stay with you," Frodo said quietly.  
  
Aragorn put his arm around him. "And I with you."  
  
*****************  
  
Despite the previous sleepless night, Frodo lay awake well after his watch ended, unable to stop his spinning thoughts. Aragorn advised leaving the River above Rauros, striking out either east and then south, through nearly impassible country until they reached the Black Gate; or west and then south, to Minas Tirith. The Nazgûl knew they were on the River, obviously they had to leave it soon.  
  
Boromir is right, Frodo thought, remembering their conversation from days ago. We need supplies, we need rest. But Minas Tirith.. a city of Men, so many Men. Gandalf said Men were always corrupted by the Ring, I fear if we go there we may never leave. Yet the Men I have met have been so kind. Butterbur... Aragorn.. perhaps not Bill Ferny, Frodo thought with a smile. Aragorn seems to have no desire for the Ring. Boromir has not tried to take it. Perhaps I worry needlessly?  
  
If I choose the eastern way will Gimli and Legolas go with us? I've never even asked them, yet I have no doubt they will see it though. I am honored to have such companions. Aragorn will come, although he longs to go to Minas Tirith with Boromir. I know it.  
  
Merry, Pippin. Sam. I cannot bear to take them into further danger. I should go alone. No, that is folly. Surely I cannot do this alone. I do not know the way. I do not have the courage.  
  
Oh Gandalf, how am I to decide this? You never told me, perhaps you didn't know. I always thought you knew everything.  
  
What am I to do?  
  
** TBC ** 


	14. Riddles in the Dark

Thank you, Niere! One of your reviews snuck an idea into this chapter.  
  
What a fun response to the contest! I thoroughly enjoyed reading all the clever ideas. Although I didn't directly use any of the suggestions, what the responses did was force me to think about the subject when I had been going to skip the whole thing entirely. If no one had been interested, I wouldn't have bothered at all. I finally realized this might give me an opportunity to get a few lighter moments into Frodo's last night with the Fellowship. I hope you enjoy what has come of our collaboration. (This chapter contains the first riddle I've ever made up in my life; it's probably blindingly obvious, but you have to start somewhere!)  
  
**TATHAR** came closest to what I ended up using, so let's give a big hand to TATHAR!!!! (BTW, Tathar's recent "Bless Them" is real gem.)  
  
Koko Kung: Sorry that Legolas doesn't get much to do in this story, but that's just the way this particular tale worked out. (Don't fret, it seems that just about every third story on ff.net seems to be about Legolas!) I do apologize that your favorite is a bit neglected in this story, and appreciate you reading it anyway.  
  
Eeeps, there's only one chapter left to go!  
  
DISCLAIMER: Of course. The characters don't belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.  
  
_________________________  
  
WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON  
  
Chapter 14 --- Riddles in the Dark  
  
  
Sam opened his eyes to a grey sky and chill in the air. The morning smelled of rain to come. He rolled over and automatically checked to see that Frodo, sleeping next to him, was all right, then got to his feet. Gimli had a fire going, and by the time everyone was awake Sam had breakfast ready.  
  
Aragorn noticed Pippin scanning the skies uneasily, and he addressed the Company. "Pippin has the right idea, we need to stay alert. Most likely there was only one wraith about, or Frodo would have continued to sense them. I suspect we can risk one more day on the River."  
  
Pippin looked at Frodo. "Can you really feel the wraiths when they're near?"  
  
Frodo sighed. "Apparently so."  
  
Pippin thought about that. "You're like Sting, then, aren't you? You can sense the wraiths and it can sense the Orcs." He grinned. "You're very useful, cousin Frodo!"  
  
Frodo laughed and gave Pippin a hug. "The things you think about, Pip! But if you don't mind, I think I'd prefer being a little less useful in that way!"  
  
The boats were loaded quickly then they set out. The current was swift, and the morning was uneventful save for a few hours of cold, uncomfortable rain. In the afternoon the sun broke though the clouds and the air warmed a bit.  
  
Legolas had been looking for some time far ahead, and he gazed in wonder as two massive statues came into view. "Aragorn," Frodo whispered in awe. As the River narrowed to pass between the giant carvings, the current became swifter and the boats less easy to steer.  
  
"Keep to the center!" Aragorn shouted, then, "Sam, this is one place you should definitely hold on." Sam needed no urging as the boats seemed to be fairly flying down the River.  
  
"Which one is..... is......" Frodo could hardly speak.  
  
"Isildur is to the right," Aragorn said quietly. "This is a sight I have long wished to see." He turned to look at Boromir sitting with his head bowed as the boats passed under the giant forms.  
  
We must stop!" Gimli bellowed fiercely. "Aragorn, I would see this more closely! The number of craftsmen it must have taken to accomplish this....... to endure for more than a thousand years...... Aragorn!" But even as he spoke the current drove them even faster. There was no way to even slow down.  
  
Pippin turned to look behind as they passed the Gates. Never had he imagined anything so massively high; not even Caradhras, which had seemed as high as the clouds, had evoked in him such awe, such utter amazement. He felt Merry's arm pull him close as they sat together and watched the sentinals of Gondor slowly diminish behind them.  
  
I have returned at last, Boromir thought, this is the land over which my family is guardian. Gondor at last. So close now, so close. Yet to return home empty-handed after all these many months, with nothing...... nothing. Boromir grew increasingly grim, and without warning he was assailed with an idea so alien to him, so repugnant, that he felt fairly ill. Black thoughts...... if Frodo chooses not to come to Minas Tirith...... might he not be persuaded to exchange the Ring for something he values more? No, these thoughts cannot be mine. Yet how can Frodo not willingly trade something which has brought him such anguish in return for something he loves. Someone he loves. He looked down at the little one at his feet. Pippin perhaps......no, do not think it.....or Sam...... no, no......  
  
Boromir closed his eyes and shook his head. What has come upon me? I do not recognize myself. He took a deep breath, then another.  
  
The boats shot through the narrow pass into what appeared to be a huge, calm lake. Frodo sighed. "That was amazing. I------" The words died on his lips as he looked at Aragorn, who appeared to have undergone a transformation. So kingly he appeared, so confident and sparkling with life and nobility, it took Frodo's breath away. It was as if a disguise had fallen from the Ranger and revealed a hidden majesty.  
  
"What's that?" Sam asked, pointing ahead. Far in the distance could be seen three peaks, one seemingly in the very center of the River itself.  
  
"That is where we're going, Sam," said Aragorn. "Tol Brandir, with Amon Lhaw and Amon Hen on each side. By nightfall we should reach them; it is said that there is, or was, a fair place to camp on the western shore."  
  
They let the current, still swift, carry them down the center of the lake as they ate and rested a little. After some hours the current slowed, and they took to their paddles, keeping as close to the western side of the River as possible.  
  
Boromir pulled himself away from his darkening thoughts. "Pippin, is your headache returning?" he asked.  
  
Pippin frowned. "No, why do you ask?"  
  
"You have not uttered a word in so long, I could only assume you were feeling unwell!"  
  
"It was that Argonath, those statues," said Pippin. "I've never felt so, well...... small."  
  
"Ah yes. I too felt the eyes of the ancient ones upon me." He smiled at the hobbit. "Much craft remains in Gondor from ages past. I think you will find a great many things in Minas Tirith of interest."  
  
"Perhaps when we return we can visit you, Boromir," said Merry. "I suppose Frodo will want to get on with things and get rid of the Ring, but once it's destroyed maybe we can come to Gondor and........."  
  
Boromir was no longer listening, no longer smiling. "...get on with things and get rid of the Ring......" He shook his head as Merry's words rang in his ears and his thoughts spiraled downward once more. To get rid of it made no sense. To walk into Mordor with it made even less sense. Why had he even come? To what purpose, then, the voice in his dream, the long search for Imladris? Why had he been directed to search for the Sword That Was Broken, Isildur's Bane, the Halfling, if not to bring them to Minas Tirith? What use had any of it been?  
  
****************  
  
Just as the sun began to set Aragorn led them to a landing place along a wide, green lawn sheltered by trees. They could see trails leading off into the trees in many directions, one of them winding gently up a long, high slope. They made camp at the foot of the slope, the hobbits sighing with relief at the feel of cool, soft grass under their feet.  
  
After the evening meal the Company sat about, talking quietly. Merry began to grow increasingly concerned about Frodo, who had sunk into a brooding silence. Something had to be done. He walked over to Aragorn and held a brief, whispered conversation with him. With a smile, the Ranger nodded to Merry and walked away from the group. After a few minutes he returned and sat back down.  
  
"Say there, Pippin," Merry said, sitting down next to his cousin. "I have a riddle for you."  
  
Pippin perked up immediately, a competitive gleam in his eye.  
  
"And you two," said Merry sternly, pointing to Frodo and Sam, "Have to keep quiet. This is for Pip."  
  
Frodo seemed suddenly more aware of where he was and what was going on. He and Sam exchanged an amused look, then nodded.  
  
"How long do I get to solve it?" Pippin asked.  
  
"I don't know," said Merry thoughtfully. "Frodo, how long did Gollum give Bilbo to solve all those riddles he asked him?"  
  
Frodo laughed. "I haven't a clue. A couple of minutes maybe? Any longer than that and Gollum would have gotten impatient and eaten him."  
  
Pippin looked a bit nervous at the thought, and couldn't help looking behind them into the darkness. Gollum wasn't just something out of a story anymore. He could be anywhere.  
  
"Don't worry, Pip." Frodo patted his knee encouragingly. "He's not after *you*!"  
  
"Ready?"  
  
Pippin nodded.  
  
"Okay." Merry took a deep breath.  
  
Born among trees, cradled in leaves  
Sheltered by unlikely pair  
Smooth to touch, color fair  
Travels far, staying still,  
Strengthens limbs, strengthens will  
  
Pippin stared at him, then closed his eyes to concentrate. Frodo had opened his mouth to say something when Merry wagged a finger at him. "Not a word out of you, Frodo Baggins."  
  
Aragorn was grateful beyond words to Merry. Frodo had a decision to make in the morning that could affect the fate of Middle-earth itself. Even a few minutes of distraction from such a heavy burden was a true gift.  
  
They all waited.  
  
"Pip, if you're going to take this long, I don't think------"  
  
"Lembas!" Pippin suddenly shoved Merry onto his back and sat on him in delight. "Lembas, Merry!"  
  
All the hobbits were laughing when Aragorn walked over to Pippin with a smile and knelt down. "Very good, Pippin. You deserve a reward for that." With that, he handed him a wafer of lembas. Pippin gasped in amazement.  
  
"And one for you, Merry," Aragorn said with an approving smile, handing Merry a leaf-wrapped wafer also. "Well done."  
  
"Thank you," whispered Merry.  
  
Legolas and Gimli had been exchanging puzzled looks. "Do you have any idea what's going on?" the Elf asked.  
  
"As Master Baggins has said, 'not a clue'," Gimli replied, shaking his head, "Although Bilbo spoke of these 'riddles' at the Council. I suppose we are the 'unlikely pair'?"  
  
Legolas smiled, nodding his head in Frodo's direction. "It is good to hear laughter again, is it not?"  
  
Gimli looked thoughtful. "Indeed, my friend, I had begun to hunger for the sound." He looked fondly at Sam and Frodo, deeply immersed in a lively conversation about riddles, then realized that Merry was sitting a bit apart, smiling at Frodo, not participating in the conversation. "He arranged this on purpose," Gimli said admiringly.  
  
Legolas followed his gaze and nodded slowly. "I believe he did."  
  
Pippin was beginning to nibble at a corner of the waybread, in preparation for devouring it fully, when he noticed that Merry hadn't touched his. "Aren't you going to eat it, Mer? You can give it to me, you know!"  
  
Merry pulled him aside a little and looked at him seriously. "I've been thinking about tomorrow, Pip. We may be starting off east, you know."  
  
Pippin nodded.  
  
"Boromir says there's very little over there. Hardly any trees or water or animals. There may not be much of anything to hunt...... except for us." He managed a small smile. "Food may be awfully hard to come by after awhile. It was wonderful of Strider to give us these, but I think maybe........ maybe we should save them? Maybe we should really start thinking about what's ahead, and........ well........." He stopped, not wanting to scare Pippin too much. It was all becoming too real.  
  
Pippin sat quietly for a few minutes, then slowly wrapped the wafer back in its mallorn leaf and slipped it into his pocket.  
  
Merry did the same. "I know this is hard, Pip. Frodo's not the only one who's proud of you."  
  
Pippin sighed. "Maybe we can eat them tomorrow?"  
  
Merry gave him a hug. "Tomorrow, then."  
  
  
** TBC ** 


	15. Not Alone

Don't miss "By the starlit mere of Cuivienen," a marvelous, under-reviewed vignette by Daugher of Gorlois.  
  
Now then. STORY COMPLETE!! THANK YOU for taking this journey with me. I actually had the idea for this last chapter before I even wrote Chapter 1, so I hope I was able to bring the story logically to this point. (Erin- 21: Remember what I said, what happens after an AU story is over can be left to our imaginations. So think good thoughts about Boromir!)  
  
I have a notepad full of ideas for two more somewhat shorter tales --- one on Caradhras (Pippin shock/angst and Frodo acting as the comforter for a change); and one in Rivendell (the hobbits return to Rivendell after the war on their way back to the Shire, one day before Frodo's and Bilbo's birthday). I promised Talking Hawk I would upload Chapter 1 of my new story on her birthday (September 11), so I'd better decide which one to start writing! Any preference?  
  
DISCLAIMER: Of course. The characters don't belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.  
  
_________________________  
  
WHISPERS OF THE DRAGON  
  
Chapter 15 --- Not Alone  
  
Frodo wasn't in his bedroll, and Sam sat up quickly, his heart in his throat. Had he left? Was he gone? Sam sighed with relief to see his friend standing alone at the River's edge, gazing into the early-morning mist. Everyone else was still asleep. Sam got up and walked to Frodo's side.  
  
"Good morning, Mr. Frodo," he said quietly. He frowned at the sight of Frodo holding Sting in his right hand. "Is everything all right?"  
  
"Morning, Sam. Everything's all right.. well, *now*, that is."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Sting was glowing a bit a few hours ago. Orcs about, presumably."  
  
Sam gasped and looked across the River, then behind them into the trees. "Which side?"  
  
"I don't know. Aragorn thought it might be a few of them roaming on the eastern shore." Frodo fell silent again.  
  
This was the morning Frodo had to choose, east or west. Sam wished he could take the burden off his friend, but no one could. He had to know.  
  
"Frodo," he said softly. Frodo turned to face him. "Which side?"  
  
Frodo closed his eyes and shook his head. "I don't know," he whispered.  
  
*****************  
  
The Ring-bearer is setting out on the quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid.. Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.... Elrond's voice, so clear. What did Gandalf say about.....?  
  
"Frodo?"  
  
With a start, Frodo realized everyone was looking at him expectantly. Seated in a circle after their morning meal, the time had finally come.  
  
Frodo looked at every face. His Fellowship. Had anyone ever had such friends, such protectors? He shook his head.  
  
"I cannot choose yet. Let me be alone for an hour." He sighed. "I cannot remember the last time I was truly alone."  
  
Sam and Merry exchanged worried glances, but Sam remembered what Merry had said the day before. As long as Frodo didn't get his hands on one of the boats, he couldn't take off east alone. And to head toward Minas Tirith made no sense at all, as far as Sam could see.  
  
"Very well," Aragorn said. "Don't go far." He said nothing else, although he longed to beg, to plead. Please don't go far. Stay safe.  
  
Sam noted that Frodo chose the path that climbed up the slope, and he saw that Boromir was also following Frodo's departure with his eyes. Everyone else looked down, or away, respectful of Frodo's need to be alone. Even Pippin suddenly found a corner of his cloak suddenly fascinating to examine.  
  
After some time, Pippin sighed, still looking down. "Boromir, is Mordor truly as awful as you say?"  
  
"I trust the tales I have heard, little one."  
  
"Oh."  
  
No one said anything else for a long time, each person heavy with his own thoughts.  
  
*******************  
  
Sam was getting uneasy. "Strider," he said, "With respect, sir, Mr. Frodo's been gone a bit longer than an hour, I would say."  
  
"I agree, Sam. We must call for him." Everyone sprang to their feet, eager to be the one to find Frodo. "Wait-----!"  
  
With no further thought, Sam immediately dashed up the slope in the direction Frodo had gone. Boromir ran after him, then overtook the hobbit and raced on, his thoughts confused and spinning. After a long climb he reached a level spot quite high up on the hill, and spotted Frodo across a clearing walking aimlessly among broken statuary. Frodo looked up, startled, as the Man came into view. Boromir stopped, looking at him. Looking past him. The hill commanded a clear view toward the southwest, the wooded, broken landscape between this place and home. Home, Boromir thought. The Ring, I have to----  
  
Just then Sam came to the top of the hill, panting for breath. The thoughts of the previous night descended upon Boromir's mind like a black cloud. Surely Frodo will trade the Ring for something.... for someone... With no clear thought of what he was doing, or why, Boromir grabbed the hobbit as he raced past, pulling him tightly against him. Before either Sam or Frodo knew what was happening, Boromir had pulled Sam's sword from its sheath and was holding it against Sam's throat.  
  
"Put your sword on the ground, Frodo," Boromir rasped in a strange, tight voice. "Do it NOW." His left arm was wrapped tightly around Sam's chest and arms, and he could feel Sam's wildly beating heart. He held the small sword steady at the hobbit's throat.  
  
In shock at the sight before him, Frodo reached down with shaking hands and pulled Sting from its sheath. Slowly he bent down, placed it on the grass, and stood up again.  
  
Boromir nodded his head at the broken stump of a pillar several yards away. "Take out the Ring. Put it on that stone and back away." He felt Sam catch his breath in shock.  
  
"Mr. Frodo, no!" Sam cried. "Run sir!" Frodo stood still, unable to move. How could this be happening?  
  
Finally he stirred. "Boromir," he whispered, "What are you doing?" He took a step forward. "You know this is wrong. Let Sam go." He took another step. "Don't listen to the Ring, Boromir, you know this is wrong. You *know* this is wrong! Boromir, don't listen!"  
  
"Don't make me hurt him, Frodo," Boromir said grimly. Frodo halted, his thoughts spinning.  
  
"Frodo," Sam whispered, "Please run!"  
  
This wasn't Boromir. It couldn't be. In all his nightmares about the Ring and its fate, Frodo had never imagined anything like this. He was neither warrior nor wizard, but a sheltered, weary hobbit trying to do what the Wise believed he alone could do. How could he make such a choice as this? He only knew that if Boromir harmed Sam, his Sam, two good people would be lost. Not Sam, no, please no. If he handed over the One Ring to a Man crazed with greed and desperation, all of Middle-earth could be lost. He couldn't give Boromir the Ring. He couldn't lose Sam. He couldn't choose.  
  
Against his will his hand inched up toward the Ring, Boromir watching him, breathing heavily. The Ring wanted to go with Boromir, Frodo could feel it. It would destroy the Man and the Dark Lord would enslave him. The Shadow spreading, devouring.. Sobbing, his eyes never leaving Sam's, Frodo forced his hand away from the Ring, into a deep pocket, fingers curling around the Phial of Galadriel. "A light to you in dark places," She had said. This is darkness, Frodo thought desperately. Help me.  
  
Suddenly Boromir looked past him and gasped. Sam, too, went rigid, his eyes wide. Frodo turned around and saw Sting glowing faintly blue. Even as they looked, the sword grew a bit brighter. Frodo looked around them wildly, and with a cry Boromir released Sam, thrust the small sword into Sam's hand, and pulled out his own.  
  
Boromir stared aghast at Frodo, then at Sam. "What have I done?" he whispered. He felt to be waking from a nightmare. "Sam, I would never... I could never have..." Whirling about and looking back down the hill they had climbed, he could just make out Merry and Pippin barely visible through the trees, still searching for Frodo, unaware of any danger. He turned for one last, desperate look at Frodo and Sam. Sting grew brighter. "Run," he urged hoarsely. With that, he raced down the hill, all thought of the Ring forgotten in his need to warn his little ones.  
  
Frodo raced to where Sam had fallen shakily to the ground. Frodo sank to his knees and flung his arms about his friend for a long moment, both clinging tightly to the other.  
  
"Sam, oh Sam," Frodo whispered, tears still streaming down his face.  
  
"I'm all right," Sam said shakily.  
  
The Ring, Frodo thought wildly, it was the Ring. Who would it seize next? There was no other choice. He threw himself to his feet, breathing heavily, as all indecision left him. "I have to go!" he said.  
  
Sam looked at him and stood up. "Not alone, sir," he said steadily. "Not without your Sam."  
  
Frodo shook his head, backing away. "You don't understand. I have to go alone. It's certain death, you can't come. You can't!"  
  
To his horror, Sam saw Frodo reaching for the Ring. With a cry, he flung himself forward, toppling Frodo to the ground. Sam grasped both his friend's hands and held them tightly between his own, Frodo staring up at him in shock.  
  
"Mr. Frodo, I'm coming with you. You'll not go alone and that's that. Now let's get away from this place before we're found here." Slowly he released Frodo's hands and rose to his feet, then held his hand out. In a daze, Frodo grasped his friend's hand and stood up.  
  
"Sam," Frodo whispered. Slowly he took a deep breath and nodded, suddenly relieved beyond measure. "All right, it's plain we were meant to go together." The shadow of a smile touched his lips. "Come, then."  
  
Stopping only to retrieve Sting, with one last look about them they raced down the hill choosing a different direction than Boromir had gone, flitting as silently as only hobbits could through the trees toward the River. Toward Mordor.  
  
** END ** 


End file.
